Afterglow
by MaryStacy
Summary: Chapter 17 up 8/19-----It's her first time out as the Ambassador's wife and she wants to prove herself worthy. Will Amanda find herself up to the task? Any reviews are much appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

_**AFTERGLOW**_

_Mary Stacy_

* * *

**Chapter One **

The last slim volume slid right into the last remaining bit space as if it was made to fit, leaving not a centimeter to spare. Amanda sealed the box, running her finger over the elaborate but unreadable script that marked its final destination. Turning back to her bed and the bags that would actually travel with her, she closed the final one with a decisive click. That was it - she could take nothing more. Her precious books were all packed ready for the journey, along with a few choice keepsakes. Whatever remained that she could truthfully lay claim to would have to wait until she was able to send for it.

With a deep sigh she surveyed her room, taking it in for one last time. While she was sure she would visit it again in the future, this would be the last time she would look on the room as her own. When she returned it would be as a guest. She was severing ties not only with the room but the life it represented. Her memories would be fond ones, but she had a whole new world to conquer now.

Only the hardest part was left, saying goodbye to her grandmother, not knowing when she would see her again. In many ways, she and her mother had been more like sisters, daughter to a single mother. And when her mother finally escaped to the stars, it had just been the two of them, her and Gran. Now she was also off on her own journey out into the vast, unknown universe, chasing her heart across those same stars, leaving Gran alone. It was her one true regret.

There was a brief rap on the door and Louisa entered, eyes moist and red from crying. Amanda felt as if she were looking into a reflecting pool of her own sorrow at saying goodbye.

"They'll be here for the boxes in about an hour," her grandmother paused. Amanda knew that until this moment Louisa had never really believed she would leave. Although for her the last few weeks since Sarek had returned to Vulcan seemed to have taken forever at times, for her grandmother she knew they had been far too short.

"Your bags?"

"All ready to go. And the boxes are all labeled with who knows what. I suppose that one day I'll be able to read it, but right now, I've got no idea what it says or where they'll be going." Amanda laughed nervously, and then an awkward silence descended between them.

There was not much time left before the car arrived for her, one that would start her on a journey that would cross light years in the next few weeks.

"Manda-"

She knew what her grandmother was going to say before she said it, and turned to look out the window, waiting for it to come. She had heard it over and over again, in several different forms, in the course of the last few weeks.

... _are you sure?_

"Are you sure? Once you're gone it won't be easy to make your way back. The further out you are, the harder it is to turn around and -"

"Gran, I am sure. I think I was sure from that first night I saw him on the porch. I've just had to make certain that it was the same for him, and it is Gran, it truly is. Believe me - please?"

"Amanda, I want to, but this is a very closed and traditional society you going into and I can't help but think that his family is going to object to this —"

"I know Gran, I know, he comes from an important family and -"

"No, it's more than that, he's an Xcha'ala'at. I once asked Naadiir what that meant, since Vulcans are fairly closed mouthed about these things, and all she could tell me was that it was 'First born of first born', in the line of a house seat for one of their tribes. I can't see that there won't be trouble for you of some sort."

She turned back toward her Grandmother, unconsciously playing the ring that now graced her left hand, as if receiving some sort of strenght from it to be added to her words, "You've always told me what a skilled diplomat Sarek is. How they use him as a trouble-shooter placing him where ever they expect tough negotiations, because of his talents. I can't think he'll have a problem dealing with his own family."

"Maybe you're right, Child, but these old bones of mine say the two of you may have a rocky road ahead there. You know if anything happens that you, both of you, will always be welcome here."

She kissed her grandmother on the cheek then hugged her briefly. They both pulled back brushing the tears from their respective eyes.

"I'll be fine Gran, I know I will," she took a hold of the other woman's hand, "Believe in us Gran, believe in us."

Downstairs, the door bell was ringing. The car was finally there to take her away.

* * *

Looking out across the vast expanse of the desert, Sarek took in the view from his private rooms one last time. The small house in ShiKahr was almost ready and there was no reason for him not to start setting up the household in anticipation of Amanda's arrival. 

This room had been his haven as a child, the home he would always return to from his many travels. Had his life's path been different, the adjoining rooms would have been opened up for his wife, but now, instead he would have a new home for her, one in which they would both feel welcomed.

He glanced across to the ornate scroll that sat on the side table, its size concealing the weight of its contents. It had been delivered by courier just this morning and he had tossed it aside immediately and begun to pack. He had known that it would be coming eventually, it was only a matter of time, but some small portion of him had hoped it would be otherwise and he had put off this final leavetaking until its arrival. Still, all considered, it would be better to have this resolved before Amanda arrived.

Picking up the scroll, he broke open the seals purposely, freeing the ribboned closure. The elaborate formal script and its archaic wording held no surprises. He was being called before council to account for his "actions"

Sighing, he turned to look out across the desert from the familiar vantage point one last time. So much for IDIC, he thought to himself as he tucked the scroll into the folds of his tunic and closed the door on the life, and possibly the future, that once was his.

The prophets had said "One cannot close one door without opening a second." And so it would be. He had found his second door and was walking into it eyes wide open and with a new found joy for living.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sarek's desert boots padded lightly across the highly polished mosaic as he made his way through the expansive entry hall. He pushed the many memories that were rising to the surface firmly aside. He would no longer think of it as the welcoming entry to his family's home. Now was an exit for him, leading away from the certain and secure into a far different future than that which had been planned for him before he had even been born.

"You are leaving then?"

Before she had spoken her presence had been announced by the gentle tinkling of the delicate bells that T'Pazia favored wearing wrapped about her waist. As a children they had always proved fair warning to him and his sister that their mother was approaching. Now they warned of a confrontation he had hoped to avoid.

"I do not see that I have been given a choice."

"Of course you have a choice, we all have a choice. Yours is to either follow the course that you have spent your entire life preparing for, or to give in all up in a single emotional act."

He did not turn to face his mother. Control was much easier for him this way.

"My choice of wife will not interfere with my public life unless others allow it to do so."

"And are we not at the mercy of what others think? Sarek, so many plans, would you throw them away for this?"

"I have given my life to my people and will continue to do so. All I ask is to be allowed my choice of wife."

"Do not act like a madman in the throes of his cycle, unable to control his own urges. Consider the consequences of what this will do, not just to you but to us all."

She moved beside him, and he felt the silent dare to face her. He resisted the temptation, knowing that at least part of her intent was to break his determination. His mother should know better

"I assure you I am more sane and sure of this than I have been of anything in my life."

"I did not raise my son to be seen as a fool. I ask you again, do not throw you life's work away on this dalliance."

"It is no dalliance," He turned swiftly at the barb, his temper finally breaking through, and he responded sharply, "And as for my life's work, is not this in many ways a culmination of it? Was I not trained to see beyond our world and recognize and respect what other worlds have to offer? Is it not my duty on finding something of worth to bring the understanding of it back to my people? Am I not here to forge bonds and build bridges?"

"You speak not like the realist I have known and raised. You speak as a dreamer-"

"I speak with a truth which you will not even try to open yourself to understanding."

"And will you appear like this before Council? Yes, I heard that you were served a summons to account for your actions in this distasteful matter."

He straightened noticeably, and responded with a trace of pride, "I will speak before council as I always have, with my conscience. Would you have me do any other?"

Now she was the one who turned her back to him and he saw the tension trace along her broad shoulders. She dropped her raised her head high looking beyond to the end of the hall and sighed.

"My seat will be empty."

As a tribal house head, his mother held a permanent seat on the council, one that would have been passed onto him in time without question. Now all that was once to be was called into uncertainty. Although T'Pazia had not yet intimated it, she could well disown him with little effort on her part.

"I would expect no less."

He strode forcefully toward the door.

"Sarek-" Her voiced softened for a moment, as if somewhere inside there was a part of her that felt regret, "Remember in the family, all will be forgiven should you choose to reconsider and return."

He paused for a moment before the great bronzed doors, "I would assume that invitation is mine alone and not extended to my wife?"

"Wife, wife," this time it was her control that broke in frustration, " this is a Terran child you bring here, no wife to be welcomed into a household."

He glanced back at his mother for only a moment, mentally saying his farewells to the home he had once called his.

"I would not wait too long for my return then. The path to this door is as lost to me. "

He turned and flinging the heavy doors open with a single motion, marched out into the blinding mid-day light.

* * *

There had over the years been the usual class trips first to the moon then to a "working" space station, but that was as far as Amanda had managed in the course of her twenty years. Now in one large leap she was going further than she had ever imagined. 

As the shuttle docked into the station, she could see the Nebula Dancer off to the side. Star cruising had just started to come into its own in the last few years as a vacation that was one that the middle class could afford, if only as a "once in a lifetime" experience. And while Vulcan was not on its ports of call, it would bring her closer enough that it would only take an additional 2 days on a smaller freight carrier to reach her destination. The green light flickered above her head indicating the shuttle was ready for disembarkment. At once it seemed like all 200 passengers made a mad dash to the portals, anxious to make their way to the gleaming cruiser they had viewed from afar.

Amanda shifted her weight between the heavy bag on her shoulder and the rolling bag at her side. She was exiting from a packed mass, largely human with a few odd others sprinkled about the edges, to an even larger one. The waiting section of the station was filled with cruiser passengers of all ages and sizes, from rambunctious children racing through the seating area to older couples who looked for all the world to be celebrating second honeymoons.Dragging her luggage she vainly looked for an open com unit to let Gran know she had arrived safely, but the lines were discouraging. Even less encouraging was the lack of seating. It was a good 3 hours until the ship was due to board and there seemed to be not an empty seat in sight. She strained over the crowd vainly looking for a spot to rest---

"Ms. Grayson?"

She jumped as the tall, uniformed figure tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Grayson. We tried to catch you as you left the shuttle but you slipped away from us. I'm Antares from the Royal Celebrity Star Lines."

"I guess you must know who I am already," she said awkwardly, not sure of what he wanted, or what was expected of her.

"Let me take that bag from you and take you to our VIP Star Lounge, just this way—"

Amanda looked around, was he really talking to her or to someone else? Antares motioned her to follow him into the lift and watched as he inserted his access key. As the rode up past the floors, she looked back unto the chaos she had somehow seemed to escape from, and pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Would she open her eyes and find herself squeezed on a hard seat between a crying baby and a snoring man?

The lift doors opened onto an oasis of palms and ambient music. A few couples sat quietly conversing, some fellow solo travelers were involved with their personal notebooks, and over in the corner a group stood laughing by what appeared to be a bar. All of them had one thing in common, that their well-dressed, sophistication made her feel out of place in the casual traveling clothes. She ran her fingers through her unruly hair- traveling always seemed to bring out the frizz in her hair. She must look like the "ragamuffin" as her grandmother was fond of calling her at times. If she had a streak of dirt across her face she would have elicited no less of a look of disapproval then she was receiving now from some of those assembled in the lounge. She was an intruder in their private world and they were making sure that she knew it.

"Let's find you a seat, and I'll get a porter to bring your luggage directly to your stateroom."

Well, if no one else was impressed by her, Antares seemed to be.

"Can I get you anything, a drink maybe?"

Was he offering her a real drink? Did he really think she was old enough? Most people thought she was younger than her twenty years. It was tempting, but it was better that she not risk getting "tipsy" in this crowd.

"Water would be fine-with ice."

"I'll bring a carafe right over to you."

She settled into one of the deep wide seats taking a deep breath for the first time in hours. She closed her eyes. It was only the start of her journey and already she felt overwhelmed. The clink of ice on the table brought her back, and she gratefully smiled at her savior.

"If there is anything else?"

"I think this is great, Antares."

"You'll let me know?"

She nodded as she took a gulp of the much-needed drink. As he turned to walk away, she called him back.

"Antares?"

He turned to her, at her beck and call it seemed. She let loose a wide smile.

"Thank you."

"It is my pleasure, ma'am."

Well, certainly no one had ever called her ma'am before…

Check in was all very civilized, they each had a steward assigned to them and made their way through the waiting cruiser. Antares had signed her off to Cheleb. She wondered if it was part of the deal when then signed on with the cruise line. Did they give up their real names for these- or did the cruise line search for a star-branded crew.

Amanda was sure that when it came their turn, those below in the vast waiting room would not have the luxury of being personally escorted to their cabins. As they road the lift one group after another left, leaving only herself and a single couple, a man and woman in fur and fine jewels, one no less adorned than the other. Finally the elevator emptied and she was ushered to one what seemed to be the only two suites in the long elegantly appointed corridor. The steward opened to door to a suite filled with flowers a fruit.

There must a mistake, was her first reaction, this was a formal suite…

"I'm sorry, are you sure you have the right Amanda Grayson? This can't be—"

"You're the only Amanda Grayson on the ship, ma'am. If you need anything at all just press the unit on the wall. Ship will set sail in 4 hours."

The door slid closed behind her as she took in her surroundings, first poking her nose into the flowers then taking a bite of a pear in the inevitable fruit basket. Some of the arrangements had notes: from Gran, from her classmates, from Naadiir. Overshadowing them all stood a huge vase filled with dozens of red roses and signed with a single "S". She pulled out a single rose and looked out the large observation window to the stars beyond. Time could not pass fast enough now; each day would be an eternity until she could be by his side.

After a brief search she found the com punched the buttons as she moved to look out the large observation window.

"I'm here safely, Gran," she said as she gazed down at the earth below her in wonder, "I've made it this far."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

Three days ago she had found herself panic-stricken. It had taken all of her resourcefulness to pull herself together and figure out her next steps. Amanda had arrived at Terminus IV only to find her connecting ship had left two hours early- she was alone, finding herself stranded somewhere between her old home and her new one. The one saving grace was remembering the deceptively small currency card that Sarek had slipped in her hand before he had left. 

_"It is for you, use it as you will."_

_"What could I possibly need? You've arranged everything!"_

_"You will be traveling for the first time, and against my better judgment alone," he had sighed, resigning himself to having to admit something close to an emotion, "I would be more at peace knowing you had it at your disposal."_

_"Oh, Sarek, nothing will happen," she stood on her toes and let her lips brush briefly against his, then laughed._

_"Perhaps," he replied letting his long, slender hand embrace the side of her face, "but 'humor' me… my wife."_

Of course, his instincts had been right. The card had allowed Amanda to sign into a layover suite for two days, while frantically sending sub-space messages before she finally got through and received a response. And within 2 hours transport was found. It was not glamorous, and luxury would be only a memory, but it would get her to Vulcan within 4 days and now that was all that mattered.

Long before boarding she had arrived at the dock, anxious to be off Terminus and back under her husband's protective gaze. She watched from the observation window as the ship came into dock, thinking it looked like nothing so much as one of the myriad of fireflies that danced through the summer nights at home.

No, scratch that, she thought, home is ahead of me now, somewhere out there….

* * *

The freight cruiser was equipped for the transport of a small number of passengers as well as cargo and Amanda had to admit the comfortable if compact cabin here was no worse than some of the dorms she had shared in school. With only a few days remaining until she reached her destination, her surroundings mattered less and less. All that she seemed to be able to concentrate on was counting down the hours. 

The "Captain's Dinner" consisted of herself and two other passengers, an Oxford student who seemed to be writing his thesis on how far one could hitchhike across the galaxy and a missionary from some obscure outer-rim sect, along with a handful of the crew members in the ship's galley. The food was good if basic and she had to admit the conversation was much more interesting than any on the Nebula Dancer, as they related tales of their adventures and the various and sundry shortcomings of the planets they visited.

"Take the rock we are dropping the little lady here off at," one gruff crewmember offered, "never visited and never will. Damn strange lot."

"Why do you say that? Why haven't you ever visited the planet? "

Amanda was glad that the student had asked the question first, and chimed in, "From what I take it, it's part of your regular run."

"Maybe VSC is, but you don't think they let riff-raff like us sully the actual planet with emotion do you?"

"What Jaine means, Miss, is that Vulcan is a restricted planet. We dock and unload our goods at Space Central and then pick up any outgoing ones," the Captain sought to explain, "The Vulcans don't give us much need to visit the planet and those that do visit, well, my crew doesn't liken too much to being 'escorted' through out their stay."

"What brings you to Vulcan?" Asked the engineer, a starry-eyed girl graced with an air of childish innocence for all her technical skill. Amanda thought of all the people she had encountered on her trip, this was the closest she had found to a kindred spirit, and were they alone, she might have offered the entire story.

_…I've married Prince Charming and he's sent for me to join him at his home across the stars…_

"My husband," Coming back to reality, she wasn't sure how the rest would react if she told them who or what her husband was. She bit her lip briefly and offered a somewhat censured version, "I've followed him here."

"Unlucky girl," the crewman murmured, " You don't even look old enough to have a husband and now you're going to be stuck living on a sand dune."

* * *

Making sure that every decoration and award was in its proper place on his formal robe, Sarek nodded to the attendant, and the door opened to the long and winding hallways that lead to the council chambers. These boots, unlike his desert ones, clicked surely against the marble floors and resonated through the corridors. Although his eyes never strayed from the straight path he kept to, from time to time his peripheral vision caught others to the side, in the shadows of the carven pillars that lined his way, no doubt feeling that they were watching him march to his downfall. There were probably more then a few that might in the privacy of their thoughts, be pleased with that outcome. Sarek did not plan to succumb to their desired outcome. 

Finally, he found himself approaching the massive chamber doors, carved with the words of Surak. He had entered through these same doors so many times in his life before, but never to have his judgment called in serious question. Taking a breath, he stood a moment to compose himself before nodding to the ceremonial guards on either side. The doors swung open to the council seats on the far side of the hall, arranged in a semicircle of twenty around a low table plus the single head chair in the center, lit only by candles and the firepots, which marked the eight directions. At least it would not be a full council session- only four seats were occupied, and he could already ascertain where his opposition was strongest.

Sarek stood straighter and taller than he had ever had need to before, and when he stopped, he chose the spot, directly in the center of the IDIC that was inlaid within the semi-circle, its semi-precious stones glittering in the low light. It would be his silent statement on the logic of his choice.

Kneeling, he bowed to the attending members of the council briefly, and was met by nods of acknowledgement. Most of them he knew personally, many of them he was related to in someway, cousins of either distant or close ties, in the way that many of the highborn were. The council head herself was a third cousin to his mother and his father's sister, T'Pau, held the house seat for Gilded Peaks. As she had promised, his mother's seat remained empty. T'Pazia could have assigned it to a lesser house member for the hearings, but had not chosen to, marking the importance of her absence to all.

Head of Council, T'Yshin spoke first, the slight tremble in her voice that great age brought upon deceptively hiding the power that was leashed within her seemingly fragile frame.

"Sarek, Xcha'al'at of the House of Seven Winds, you are called before the council to account for your actions during your past assignment."

"I stand open to your enquiries." Now standing, nodded slightly, lowering his eyes for a moment, acknowledging that he was open to questions, before he boldly raised his head, allowing his gaze to settle on her obsidian one.

"It has been said that you have taken a Terran child to mate, Sarek. This is a grave indiscretion."

He had expected this. Even before he had allowed the idea of marrying Amanda come into his thoughts as a real possibility, he had known that there would be questions raised, doubts on his sanity even if he took this course.

"She is no child by her people's standards, but a woman full grown. There is no dishonor in this. I have married her in the ways of her people and would marry her in our own ways as well."

"You are a ranking ambassador to our people, the heir to one of these very seats. To bring an inferior such as this onto our world, you who should be above reproach."

This was from his cousin, and was only to be expected. T'Pau had never hid her distaste for "outworlders", any more than her transparent desire for the head council seat when T'Yshin passed onward to the land of her ancestors.

"There is nothing inferior in humans or in any non-Vulcans, there is only difference. And are we not taught that the greatest edict we have is to honor diversity?"

"Honor perhaps, but to take it to mate? This goes too far, Sarek." Shardeen came in now, joining with T'Pau, reflecting his House's traditional allegiance to their fellow Mi-naar tribe members in Gilded. "What will it be next? Would you have us accept not just this human woman but her emotions as well? Would you wreck the havoc on our society that we see on other worlds? We are long at peace and would keep it so."

" Would you abandon our ways for that of the Earthers?" No-ha-reen of Crouching Stars had always been considered an ally in council. He did not know whether or not her question indicated that she would abandon her traditional path or if she merely felt a new voice should be added.

"We could deny this child entry."

This from T'Pau again, seemingly anxious to push herself into the forefront of his opposition. Sarek had expected this tact, and suspected that it was behind the early departure of the original transport he had arranged for the final leg of Amanda's journey. If so, he wondered if T'Pau were aware that this part of her plan had already been foiled?

"Deny her entry and I will follow her. Deny me the ability to follow her and when my time comes, I will die for I will have no other. And each of you will have my blood on your hands."

"It has been said among some that you were promoted too young, too quickly, without the years to temper such a volatile nature."

No-ha-reen again added her voice, and he began to suspect that her line of questioning was more expository, allowing him insight into what was being said behind the curtains by the members.

"And yet Council has never thought twice of assigning to me missions which other more "experienced" Ambassadors have failed. I have never given Council reason to regret their decisions."

"Until now."

"My personal life is my own. I have comported myself with honor in all things. I have done nothing to bring shame to my House or myself. It is only in the narrow minds of those who pay but lip service to the ideals of our culture, who espouse IDIC but only if it fits outside their range of prejudices. Those for whom diversity can only be celebrated if it can be contained in a small box labeled "Vulcan"."

"Humility has never been your strong point, Sarek," If it could be said, it seemed that T'Pau was relishing her role in all this as she continued, "Indeed, rather than seeking to admit to the illogic of your actions, you put yourself forward as the definer of all that is IDIC, pitting yourself against those of us who would say that acknowledging IDIC does not mean one needs to mate with any off-world mongrel…"

T'Yshin's eyes had never left his face until now, when she turned upon T'Pau.

"T'Pau! I think that I speak for all when I say that civility is to be called for within these council chambers and as long as I am council head, it will remain so."

"I give my life in service to my people and the life my people ask of me is to be spent among other worlds. That I choose to take to wife a Terran should not be so difficult to understand. It is nothing more than an extension of whom I have been trained to be."

"Then I would say that some of us have a different idea of what your training has encompassed. There is a limit to this type of behavior and you have crossed its boundaries."

"I ask no more of any of you than to take this symbol of our people, upon which I center myself and accept it with all the implications."

"You are set upon this path then?"

"I am," He set his jaw firmly in place and stood unwavering, unbowed, and unrepentant.

"Council will adjourn to discuss what actions will be taken. When a decision is reached, you will be summoned," T'Yshin had closed his questioning, ending it with her traditional words.

"Go in peace, child."

"I walk in honor."

"It is as it should be."

For a moment he paused, unsure of the unexpected response. Sarek strongly suspected that he had managed to split the council between she who was head and she who would be.

Bowing first before the length of the table, he then turned to T'Yshin as council head, allowing himself to hold the position a few brief moments longer than traditional. Finally, he nodded to each of the 8 directions marked by the firepots, then strode from the chambers head held high. He imagined he could he the cacophony breaking out behind him as the doors swung shut, doors traced with the words of Surak:

_"There is no brave honor in taking the road well-beaten, marked in the sand by a thousand feet. No, the true honor is to be found in creating the path where none before existed."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

This should have been finished days ago. Displeased as he was, Sarek was also aware that unfortunately, until the necessary parts had arrived, the craftspeople were unable to finish. Now that the last modifications were being completed, there was nothing left but the final touches and then clean up, but time was also running short. His wife was due to arrive at Space Central within tryads and he would have the place completed before he would bring her into what he hoped would stand as their home for many years to come.

He stopped the head craftsperson on the way to the sleeping quarters, giving her the list of things that he expected to be finalized within by the time Amanda arrived. The worker nodded in agreement and he watched her quickly retreat to the rear of the house. The chime was ringing at the entry gate, one more thing that he did not need. The gods were truly testing his control today. Making his way out to the small courtyard that spanned the front of the house, he found several uncompleted plantings along the way. More things to be added to the list.

Upon opening the gate, he came face to face with the one thing he did not need today, a council courier.

"Xcha'al'at Sarek, the council has come to a decision and you are called to attendance at this time."

This had to have been done on purpose, to interfere with his plans to meet his wife at Space Central. He had already come to the conclusion that certain members of the council had a hand in Amanda's "missed" connection. They had been unable to prevent her from completing the journey, but they would take every step they could to make the remainder of her trip as difficult as possible.

"I will need a few moments to make arrangements for my wife's arrival."

"It has been arranged. Seenon of your staff will meet her and transport her here. Your presence is required immediately."

Sarek had long suspected that Seenon was in concert with several of his opponents on the council. The predetermined choice of this troublesome aide as escort only reinforced his suspicion. But it seemed to be out of his hands. He resigned himself to his fate, hoping that both Seenon and the house would be ready for Amanda.

* * *

The freighter was small enough that docking produced a shudder as it touched down at Space Central. Amanda had been sitting in her cabin the last few hours, the butterflies in her stomach giving her no peace. She didn't want to be caught by the crew pacing the corridors so she kept to her quarters, waiting for the fateful moment and now it was here. Technically at least, she was now on Vulcan. There was a brief buzz and she opened the door to one of the crewmembers. 

"We're arrived ma'am. The Captain sent me to help you with your bags."

She smiled in thanks and motioned to the case on the floor, shouldering a second one herself. They had taken a trip of millions of light years and now it was almost over. She followed the crewman though the ship and out to cargo dock, thanking the captain and assembled members of the crew one last time. Along with various and sundry trade goods, she recognized at least some of her boxes being off loaded. They would arrive together then. Amanda closed her eyes briefly took a deep breath, then stepped off the loading ramp, it would only be a few more minutes…

She was ushered to the far side of customs, with a handful of other non-Vulcans waiting for entry permits. Her bags were whisked away, she suspected to be inspected. She had been through this before on Terminus, where she had to sit for several hours for just a handful of questions. She shifted in her seat anxious to be on her way.

"They take their own good time"

"Excuse me?"

"I said they take their own good time- questioning us that is," The Lyrian across from her shifted his violet eyes over to a young Vulcan woman, intent on the monitor in front of her, "I've been here, oh, two tryads now, and that's a short wait. Last time I was here for four."

Amanda bit her lip. She wasn't sure just how long a tryad was but the fluttering in her stomach already seemed unbearable.

"I guess they are very thorough," she tentatively offered.

The Lyrian snorted and laughed, "I would guess that they want to discourage us."

A chime faintly echoed across the room as the woman at the desk answered a comm unit. In one swift move she completed the call, and looked up to meet Amanda's eyes, motioning with her head.

Amanda looked around. The others had been here much longer. She had only been here a matter of minutes…

"You are Grayson, Amanda, yes?"

Amanda nodded.

"You will enter now."

A door silently slid open to the left and Amanda sheepishly shrugged to the others still waiting in the room. She rose, steeling herself, and strode into immigration.

The room was austere, with a single backless bench situated in front of a desk empty but for a monitor and two small modules. Amanda settled herself on the hard bench, waiting for her questioning to begin as her identity chip was read, and an eye scan was taken.

"Your entry is cleared, Ms. Grayson. You may proceed to enter Space Central."

A warm rush of air came through a newly opened passage to the side. That was it? She started to say thanks, but then stopped herself. Would one Vulcan thank another for doing their job? She didn't think so. Instead she stood and nodded in acknowledgement as she had watched Sarek do so many times before, and passed through the open doorway from customs into the wide expanse of the station, her luggage stood waiting for her just inside the low wall that marked the end of the immigration area.

Amanda scanned the vast space before her, looking for the one person that she had come so far for, but try as she might she didn't seem to see him. She felt ashamed looking out on the sea of faces, each obviously intent on their task, all tall and slender, with hair in a narrow range from brown to black and skin in various tones of a golden olive, realizing that to her eyes, at this point, they really did all look alike. Would she even recognize her Sarek from afar?

"Amanda Grayson?"

A thin, stern looking Vulcan came up beside her stiffly, and she felt him accessing her appearance. In return, she thought how he looked like someone who had swallowed something sour and was trying to hold it all in. She tugged a little on the skirt that she had once thought too conservative, and straightened her jacket. She was already feeling that the choice was too hot and it would seem, inappropriate.

"Xcha'al'at Sarek is unable to meet you at this time. I am Seenon, a member of his staff. I will escort you to the Xcha'al'at's house."

The aide turned sharply on his heel and started to walk, obviously expecting her to follow. She slung the bag up on her shoulder, suddenly realizing how heavy it had become. Clearly, she was meant to be responsible for her own luggage and after a few steps attempting to keep up with her escort's pace, she realized that the rolling case as well had become heavier. Amanda mildy cursed under her breath for failing to have the motor on it fixed during the layover at Terminus, but that had been the last thing on her mind. And now the bag on her shoulder was taking its toll on her neck and back. It was hot, she was having a problem catching her breath, she could hardly drag her case, and this Seenon character was leaving her further and further behind, weaving his way across the station, while she was doing all her best to keep upright.

"Please stop, Seenon. Please."

Her voice seemed to echo in the cavernous station, and she was sure she was not imagining it when every head turned to see where the call had come from. Well, she didn't care at this point. It was better than passing out from the exertion. And it had certainly got him to stop dead in his tracks, as he stiffly turned to face her.

"I could use some help with my luggage-"

Before she could finish the sentence he picked up the troublesome bag, and was right back at his prior pace. She managed to keep close enough that she could see the shuttle dock when he finally stopped.

Sarek had told her to be prepared, that there might be some that were going to disapprove of her, but she could hardly believe that someone who was supposedly a member of his staff would feel that way. And yet as she walked past the man and onto the waiting shuttle, the disapproval was almost tangible. Amanda tossed her shoulder bag onto one of the seats and settled in next to a window. She had not yet had a chance to see "home" and as the pilot pulled out and the shuttle rotated, her window, filled at first with the vast and now familiar star field, rapidly refilled with a great body of scarlet and rust, peppered with a few small pools of turquoise, and clouds that were nothing more than delicate tracings of white.

As they drew closer, she strained looking for any signs of cities across the stretches of desert or among the mountains peaks and canyons, almost incredulous at the lack of them, before at closer range, she realized how well hidden they truly were. The cities blended in color and height with the landscape. The few tall buildings were short by Earth Standard—she had read that this was in part due to the sandstorms and earthquakes, as well as aesthetics--- and there was no reason to go "up", no need to make the most of space, to squeeze as many as possible per meter of space. It would always be a large planet with a relatively small but stable population.

She watched as the shuttle slowly spiraled down through the atmosphere, straining her eyes trying to take in everything. She had searched for holos and clips of Vulcan, but they were few and far between. The ones of ShiKahr always seemed to be of a city of fountains and shrines lost in time, where the citizens walked rather than drove, and the air was filled with the shimmer of wind chimes.

Suddenly, the city appeared in the distance, resting in a bowl on the desert's edge, surrounded on three sides by towering black mountains, sentinels to the oasis below. As they came closer, she could see what appeared to be a buffer zone rimming the city, holding back the desert. The few fellow shuttles that moved closer into the city seemed to be absorbed into its depths, leaving the sky above the buildings clear.

Now closer still, what had first appeared as a rock outcropping opened up as the shuttle neared, the pilot gracefully maneuvering it to a perfect landing within. Amanda moved to get up and then found her self back in her seat again. She had not expected the gravity change to hit her so suddenly, but after several weeks in space, she was like a swimmer who had spent too long a time in the water and had become too use to the buoyancy it provided. The gravity of Space Central had been difficult, but it now seemed only to be at a transitional level. Now she was back on real land, a land that pulled at her with a sudden persistence.

The second time, she was better prepared and straightening her skirt, she proceeded to exit with as much grace as possible. She was after all, the wife of one of their honored ambassadors. Now she needed to start to try and act as one.

Had this been Earth, the dock would have been filled with loud and lively conversations, all the hustle and commotion of humanity, but here it all was quiet. She remembered Moon Base and then Terminus, both filled with so much passion and life. If anything was being spoken here, it must all be in whispers, for it was beyond her hearing. Every single person looked as if they knew exactly where they were going, as well as exactly how long it would take them to get there. And yet for the drone-like activity of its occupants, the station itself was a place of beauty, its walls filled with murals, and many hued banners that floated down from the ceiling, gently rocked by the breezes that signaled the landing or take-off of another shuttle. Where she walked, the large stained glass windows above painted the floors with a parade of color. She started to understand that many of those things that she saw as a contradiction in Sarek were in fact parts of his Vulcan-ness. Or as he would put it to her, what was eminently logical and suitable for a Vulcan might not seem as such to a human.

Her eyes caught sight of Seenon across the way. If it could be said a Vulcan could scowl, he certainly was. Well, there would be many other days in her new life to inspect the terminal. It seemed best to just let this one do his job so they would be free of one another.

Amanda followed him into the waiting aircar, or at least that's what she had originally taken it for, but instead of rising above the city, it dove under it. This would account for the absence of traffic on the streets. They have anything that might mar their peace and calm removed from sight.

They had hardly left the terminal when the car seemed to pull up close to the surface and stop before a low ramp that was bathed in the sunlight that poured through latticework gates from the entry to the street above. The gull winged door opened and Seenon motioned her to step out, while he gathered her bags, then quickly moving up, swung open the gates. The sudden sunlight was almost brutal. Awkwardly, she struggled with her shoulder bag before she pulled out a large brimmed hat and quickly plopped it on her head. She turned back, looking toward the entrance to street level. Had she not known otherwise, she would have just seen this as any one of a number of public corner "shrines" that had dotted many of the holos.

Seenon had already moved on, and was halfway down the quiet street, lined with combination of high stucco and stone walls. She imagined she could hear the sounds of those wind chimes gently wafting over the barriers, and here and there what sounded like the quiet trickle of a fountain or a voice raised in song in the distance.

The aide had stopped before a stone wall at the far end of the street and she slowly made here way, taking her time to reach him. There seemed to be no more rushing so it would be his turn to wait for her now. When she finally reached him, Seenon nodded to the entry that stood before him, as if waiting for her to take the next step.

The gate that stood before her was quietly impressive, worked with runes and stones. With a gentle touch, it pivoted and opened up into a small courtyard, filled with several gnarled trees that offered shade to the silvery plantings below them, as well as a stone bench and what appeared to be a covered cistern. Ever aware that her escort stood waiting she followed him into the arched doorway. Seenon stopped, motioning her through a dark, wide corridor. Her eyes fought to adjust to the dimness, and she tentatively moved forward in the direction of light that seemed to be filtered through heavy lace. It was cooler here by more than a few degrees, though the gravity still pulled on the muscles of her calves and thighs like weights.

She turned to Seenon for clarity- was this to be her new home? But he was already gone, leaving only the whisper of wind chimes to answer.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Amanda froze for few moments, did she imagine the low growl, or was she really that hungry that it was her stomach was rumbling? She tried concentrating to see if she heard it again, but where ever it had come from and whatever it might have been, it was silent now.

All she could hear now was the gentle sound of water falling, and that seemed to be coming from directly in front of her. She crossed a large open area, her eyes becoming accustomed enough to the low light to see what appeared to be built in seating areas sunk into the floor on either side of her, their boundaries marked by ornately carved pillars which stretched upward into high ceilings which were themselves shadowed in arabesques. She wondered if she should be here, wandering about, exploring. Maybe she needed to stay in a single spot until someone came to her rescue or tell her otherwise. She seemed to be offending everyone at this point, and maybe there was some protocol. Dump your guests at the front door and let them find their own way to where they were supposed to be?

A brief unease skirted the corners of her mind, a worry of how she would be accepted- or not. Seenon's behavior didn't just border on rudeness; it was a solid wall of intolerance. Her grandmother had warned her that she would find Vulcan behavior cold and frequently confusing by Terran standards, that Sarek was the exception rather than the rule. That he managed to sidestep the strict rules in large part made him so successful in his profession, but once here, on his home world even he could revert to a level of stoicism that she had not yet seen. She tried to push the worries back into the corners of her mind, in part not wanting to imagine that her Sarek, her husband could ever be anything like some of the cold, hard faces she had encountered on Space Central…

Reaching the outer wall of the room, she could hear the soft trickling closer, just beyond the fretwork wall. Tentatively she reached out with her hand and jumped back, as two doors opened outward in unison on a pivot. Carefully stepping forward she let out a little gasp of pleasure at the scene that unfolded before her, sweeping away any doubts she had for the moment.

What she had thought was the ground floor was in fact the middle floor of a three-story building, which surrounded a large courtyard garden with a fountain at it heart. She had stepped into a wonderland. Moving slowly down the steps, she took in the sights with awe. The courtyard was tented with a gauze-like material that seemed to protect all under its shade from the strongest sunlight, with its fabric appearing to be woven with patterns that played in shadows on the garden below. Tapestries and banners fluttered in the breeze from their perches on the upper floors, and somewhere she could hear the gentle music of wind chimes.

She entered the garden making her way along a path of inlaid mosaic. Here the trees were full of pale golden leaves and blossoms that reminded her of nothing so much as the heart of kiwi fruit. Beds of magenta and plum fern-like plants nestled beneath them, along with tiny specks of blue that peeked out from underneath the wider palms. Here and there she spied empty spots that seemed to be waiting for their gardener to arrive and fill them with color. The two upper floors wrapped around the courtyard, but on the lowest level, the far wall held a gate. Making her way though the heart of the garden to the far side, she stood on her toes to peer over the its edge, just barely able to see another garden on the other side, but this one open to the elements, holding trees similar to the gnarled ones in the front of the house, along with patches of desert growth and carefully placed boulders. It seemed a wild garden in comparison to the well-tended one within the walls. Suddenly, she heard the growl again, only this time much louder. Realizing that it was coming from the other side of the gate, she backed off retreating into the safety of the courtyard garden.

She hoped that Sarek would arrive soon-- she was getting tired, the change in gravity now weighing on her legs, each step becoming more difficult, making her feel like she was at the end of an invisible marathon. Amanda gulped down the remains of the sad water bottle that she had carried though Space Central, and settled herself on the most comfortable looking bench, then slipped out of her shoes. Briefly, she toyed with the idea of dunking her feet in the fountain, but right now, that seemed more of a chore than she was able to undertake and the thought crossed her mind that it might be taboo, no matter how good she imagined it would feel. In little time, underneath the watchful eye of the plans and trees, lulled by the music of water and wind, and the gentle whirring of an occasional insect, she started to nod off, wondering how one could train the very insects to act just so. Maybe it was all a hologram, or even a dream. She would pinch herself, but even that seemed to much of a chore as she found it harder and harder to fight the heaviness that descended upon her. As much as she longed to think that the peace of the garden was all a result of some magical serendipity, she had to believe it was all very carefully orchestrated to achieve the desired effect. But as the atmosphere and the hot breeze pulled her deeper into sleep, her last thought that of Goldilocks and wondering whether that growling bear would be friend or foe.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had accomplished nothing being called back before council, basically to be told that they were unable to come to a consensus, though they would not be seen admitting to it. Sarek was on probation for the time being until they could decide. His behavior and Amanda's would be under constant scrutiny. While they had not at this point stripped him of his appointment, the threat was there. He would have to bide his time, relieved of any assignments until they would reach their final ruling. It was a decision that was no decision. If he would allow himself to admit it, frustration would be the word that best fit his present state of mind.

He had cleared out any immediate work out of his office and made sure the staff all had their re-assignments. If all went well, with a month or two he would re-assemble them. If not this would be a parting of ways. He knew that though looked at as strict taskmaster by many, when those who had served under him moved on, their services were sought after. If he did not return, they would have no problems finding new assignments of their own.

By the time all was arranged, his hoped for mid-day return home and stretched almost to Eventide, and Amanda would have arrived hours before. He hoped she would not have been too disappointed that he had been unable to meet her.

Entering into the hallway, Sarek half expected his wife to be standing there, waiting for him. Instead he almost tripped over the bags that had been left standing in the entry. Waving his hand over the entry sensor, he brought the lighting up to a more acceptable level. A tinge of displeasure passed through him at Seenon for being so careless as to have left the bags there. He hoped that Amanda had not been left to stumble through the house in the dark with them. Surely, Seenon…

No, cut that short. If the disloyal aide was following directions from certain members of council, he might have done the bare minimum required of him, nothing more and nothing less. Sarek could not help but think that his aide would be pleased at today's turn of events. If and when the time came, Sarek would have him demoted and dismissed from his service. Perhaps one of those council members might look aside from the acts of disloyalty and take the aide to themselves.

In the privacy of his home, he allowed himself the luxury of a deep sigh. What happens, happens, best to make the best of whatever came his way from this point onward. He had made his decision and he would stand by it. He was not one to let his private life interfere with his professional one. That others were unable or unwilling to do so, it was illogical to dwell on.

"Amanda?" He moved into the anteroom, listening for any response or any indication that he was not alone, but was only greeted by the sounds of the normal operation of the house.

Sarek had to foolishly admit disappointment that he not had been met with the joyous sound of footsteps, and the rush of energy that filled the air about his wife like an aura as soon as he arrived. The logical place to look for her would be upstairs, but something drew him back. He opened himself for a brief moment to the thread of her presence and he made toward the garden doors instead.

She was there, still curled on the bench, fast asleep, lulled by the gentle heat and the ambient sounds of the garden, carefully orchestrated to bring one to a peaceful state of mind. Her breath was heavy and slow, as if it sought to drain every once of oxygen from it. It seemed the fountain had cooled the air and sacrificed some of its precious moisture to ease her sleep.

His wife sighed, stirring in dreams. She seemed so young, so untouched by the troubles of life. What had he brought her into? How would she fare, such a seemingly fragile flower in the harsh desert air? Had he been wrong to have sent for her? Had he allowed his own selfish need for her to interfere with what was best for Amanda? Would it not have been better never to have reciprocated her desire?

It was too late now for those doubts and he know it. Too late for either of them.

He gathered her into his arms, and she reached out to him in sleep, encircling his neck with her arms. She seemed so secure in their own little world, and were it but the two of them, he would have no fears. But the whole wide world outside these walls- from that he did not know what protections he could ever offer her that would be enough.

As Sarek moved to carry into the house, Amanda stirred briefly and he brushed the damp curls away from her forehead, softly suggesting that she hold on to the much-needed sleep. There might be too many long days ahead…


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

There had been little sleep for him that night. Most of it had been spent in mediation over choices and decisions past, present and future. Trying to find paths for each alternative depending on the outcome, weighing odds on which might be needed and when. So used to being in command of any one situation, Sarek felt ill at ease knowing that there was nothing he could do but wait—his career was in the Council's hands.

All his life had been directed to this goal, this position, this life in diplomacy. From early childhood he had been tested time and again and deemed most suitable of his family to follow in the footsteps of his forefathers. And now, that very adaptability which allowed him to best deal with other species, served in some way to be his downfall.

He had, of course his Kh'eli, the career of his youth, to fall back on. In the years prior to coming of age, science had been enough to occupy him until the time came to move onto his adult work, and he had moved back and forth between the academy and early diplomatic assignments with ease. Would he, could he be satisfied with going back to a life in science? Content to restrict himself to research and lectures at the Science Academy, when he knew there were too many other things he should be doing, too many other places where his talents and assistance might be sorely needed?

There was of course the alternate, of hiring himself out as a consultant, but in doing so he would be subject them to lives of wandering. He had hoped to give Amanda a home for them to put down roots between missions. She had given up one, he had planned to give her this new one in its stead. Did he want to give that goal up? And in the end, was he questioning whether the very things he was reluctant to give up – weren't they some of the same things that she had given up for him?

He sought to find the answers, find a point in himself where he could center and search for the meaning in all this. He wanted to understand why his people spoke so highly of the value of diversity, and yet were so loathe opening themselves to it. How could they preach the ideals of IDIC, and the equality of all things, but close the door to it in practice, and be blind to their own hypocrisy?

Dawn found him on the bedroom balcony, overlooking the desert, wondering how no matter how often or how long he was away, this world of his, ancient and seemingly barren to so many eyes, was forever sealed in his heart and mind, and it had been his dream that Amanda would come to share it with him. He drew peace from the stability of the rock and release from the shifting sands, he found it a source of strong, solid quiet energy, recharging him when nothing else could.

Sarek watched his too young wife stirring on the bed, and moved to close the shuttered doors before the sun made its way above the horizon and woke her. He quietly crossed the room, gently closing the door and made his way down to the kitchen below. All too soon she would awaken from the blissful innocence that sleep graced her with. He would make sure that she had something to eat when she did.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The linens were fresh and cool against her skin and she allowed herself the luxury of just lying there for a few minutes. Did she oversleep and miss breakfast? The crew would never let her live it down—

Suddenly, she realized that she was no longer on the ship—that had been a day or more ago, now she was—

She traced the steps of her last day, her last waking memory. She had been in an enchanted garden, more tired than she had ever imagined was possible. In the background, she seemed to remember hearing a bear, and thinking of Goldilocks. And now whose bed was she in?

At one point, near dawn, she seemed to remember waking for a few moments, and seeing Sarek's distinctive profile etched in a pale golden light before the room darkened and sleep overtook her again. Or was that merely a dream? And if not a dream. where was he now?

The light that made its way between the shutters was just enough for her to make out the parameters of the room, once the sleep cleared from her eyes. She had no idea if it was daybreak or evening, or how long she had been asleep. She knew she was hungry, but even more urgently, she wanted to find a shower as the dirt and grime of days of travel hung on her like an uncomfortable film.

She tossed off the thin, finely woven blanket, letting it slide between her fingers long enough to wonder at its softness. Lingering for a moment, she examined the weave and the delicate chevron design. It would bear closer examination, but that would need to be saved for another time. She then swung her legs over the side of the bed—

And almost fell flat on her ass. The bed was high off the floor, meant for legs obviously much longer than hers, and for a brief moment she thought that perhaps the Princess and the Pea was the better metaphor for her current situation.

Easing herself off the bed, her feet slid onto the smooth tiled floor, toes first. She moved across the room, opening whatever might appear to be a door and peering in, encountering wardrobes and closets, including one where her bags were neatly stacked, before finally finding what to her delight seemed a perfectly normal Terran style bath, replete with shower and tub where the sensors responded to her entry with a soft, ambient light. She slipped out of the light gown, only briefly allowing herself to puzzle where it had come from, seeming to be of the same fine weave as the linens.

She stepped in the shower – a real shower unlike the small sonic one on the cargo ship. She had not been able to have a real shower and feel truly clean since she had stepped off the starcruiser and she was determined to scrub every inch. It felt almost too good, and she regretted having to finally hit the dry button, making sure she stopped just soon enough to feel the light trace of moisture on her skin and in the curl of her hair. She was going to look her best for the husband she had missed so dearly these last months. She didn't want to worry about him questioning why he had chosen to marry her. She tidied up the bits and pieces, finding her bags and the light sundress she had saved for the occasion. She wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not, but hopefully, the only person she would come across as she tried to navigate her way through the house was the one that she wanted to.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had taken a good 5 minutes of wandering to find a staircase and another 10 to find her husband, but finally, as she turned a corner following the light across one more darkened room, to one where the doors opened up to a terrace overlooking the garden. He was sitting at a low table, his back to her. She stopped for a moment taking in the cast of his shoulders, the set of his head, the way the ends of his hair curled up so lightly at the nape of his neck. Was it really Sarek? Was she really here?

He slowly turned, the light hitting his eyes just so, highlighting the green in their depths, so often hidden beneath those impressive brows. Part of her hoped that it was not just a trick of that light, but that his eyes had indeed shined like that just for her.

"My wife, I am most pleased to see you again. I hope your trip was not too taxing?"

His tone was moderate, with no hint of any excitement or anticipation. Whatever kind of welcome she had expected this was not it. She had dreamed of him swinging her up into his arms- she had held that fantasy over countless light years. But he was a Vulcan, and well, this was Vulcan. She could not ask what she knew he was not able to give.

He motioned her to sit, and she slid into place across the table from him. It felt awkward now, as if they were newly met acquaintances in need of further introduction.

She pursed her lips, suddenly shy, and looked out over the garden away from his intense gaze. What was he waiting for?

"It's so very beautiful here."

"I am pleased that you are pleased."

"The shower was wonderful."

"Indeed."

"How long did I sleep ?"

"I would estimate that you slept a full day. I did not want to disturb you. Obviously you needed it."

He moved the plates across the table and she suddenly became aware of how hungry she was.

"This is zabmel, it will take the bite out of your initial hunger so that you might enjoy the rest of your meal."

She tentatively took a bite of the small, square loaf, not able to decide if it was sweet or tangy, but either way it really did seem to take the edge off her hunger allowing her to leisurely try the other options.

She opened her mouth, to take a bite of one of the more interesting offerings, and realized he was watching her- like a hawk watches a mouse, she thought to herself, "Is this safe?"

He raised his brows and widened his eyes, as if to register shock that she would even consider.

"I'm just kidding, Sarek—you remember kidding, don't you?"

"Indeed."

"And this?' she took a bite and it's delicate flavor seemed to explode after a few seconds in her mouth, "This is delicious!"

"That is d'rejah, and do not eat it too quickly," he filled a tumbler for her from a carafe that rested beside him and she let the cool liquid slide down her throat.

She tried to make some headway between the bites, feeling more like a schoolgirl confronted with a crush than a wife being reunited with her husband.

"I fell asleep in the garden…"

"You did."

"Right before I fell asleep, I thought I heard a bear!"

"A bear?" He tilted his head in thought for a moment, "Eechiya."

"E cha what?"

"My—our---house sehlat."

She waited for further explanation, but none seemed to be forth coming.

"You carried me upstairs?"

"I did."

She couldn't stand it another minute of the short concise answers that seemed to volley back and forth between them, never allowing her leeway to what she really wanted to say. Frustrated, she finally just let the words escape.

"I missed you so much, Sarek!"

His eyes grew gentle in the now fading evening light, their corners tilting up ever so slightly, matching the movement that played along the corners of his lips.

"The lack of your presence has been felt as well."

"Is that all?"

She wanted so much to reach across the table to him and take his face in her hands, but she would never reach.

"You require physical assurance that I have 'missed' you?"

"Yes, damn it, why must you be so, so--Vulcan!"

"It does seem unavoidable, my wife."

Slowly, he rose on those long legs of his, and she mimicked his move, she feared with much less grace. He extended his hand to hers, forefingers raised, as if in invitation to some intricate dance, and she met them in kind, moving closer to him, until she could feel the heat of his body radiating through the light robe he wore against her bare arms and shoulders and through the thin cotton of her dress.

"And how would you have me welcome you?"

She took his face in her hands, pulling it down to hers in a kiss too long needed and longed for, and did not let go until the thin air made her too lightheaded to continue.

And then, finally, he swept her into his arms and off to a proper welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Amanda had awakened far too early, her internal clock gone all too far one way and then the other over the last few days, yet to find 'normal'. Lying there, trying to be still so as to not wake her husband, she found herself staring at his silhouette in the dim light, worrying. What if things had changed? What if now that Sarek was back on Vulcan, he regretted marrying her? What if he were to tell her it was over, that he had made a mistake and would be sending her home before her bags were unpacked?

No matter what temporary contentment the night had brought, in the harsh light of day, would things have changed? Could last night just have been a pity-?

"Amanda."

The lush whisper of his voice reverberated though every cell of her being. She jumped a little as if she were a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar. Amanda closed her eyes tight, imagining that everything would be all right from this moment on. Curling against his side, she let her hand brush against the bare, warm flesh of his chest, letting it trail from left to right until it rested beside her chin, allowing the quick fluttering of his heart beat echo against her hand.

"There is something I have done incorrectly?"

"No, no everything you have done is wonderful."

"Then what is this I sense in you?"

Was this how it would be like to be married to a telepath? That there would always be that thin line that bound them, there to stir the air with the feelings that she could not control.

"I was just… worried."

He lifted her chin, and forced her to look into his face.

"There is no need for this worry. "

She opened he mouth to speak for a moment, only to find tears had chosen this exact inappropriate moment, to start to well in the corners of her eyes. Amanda did not want to cry, and she was very much in jeopardy of doing so. She turned her head away and cast off of her husband, rolling over to the other side of the bed, forcing herself to laugh in spite of her feelings.

"I missed you so much and I was worried that you didn't miss me."

She tried to make is sound as if in jest, but part of her knew that he would sense otherwise. There had been too many times since he had left Earth that she had feared he would have a change of mind and heart. She based her decisions to come to Vulcan on unsaid words, on promises and beliefs that had no more weight then air. Yet, she felt sure Sarek loved her despite the fact that the words had never really passed his lips, but were only alluded to in the touch of his mind. Why did she suddenly feel the need for more?

"I regret that I was not here to meet you. Perhaps that might have assuaged your fears."

He reached over and took her head into his large, slender hands and made sure she had to choice but to look into his eyes and hear his words, both spoken and projected.

"Do not doubt me, Amanda Grayson, or the depth of what I hold for you. I am here for you now and always. If I am not near to you physically, I will always be here in your mind. A piece of me will remain there, just a piece of you remains within me."

She felt the light touch of his mind against hers, like a tug to remind her of a presence she had forgotten. She kissed him then, a soft and gentle kiss, born more of thanks than passion.

"I love you. I know you won't say it, but that's okay, it won't stop me from doing so."

He sat up and looked down at her, that half-smile she so treasured playing on his lips.

"Come, it is long past dawn and we still have not had the morning meal."

She lay for a moment, watching the grace of his long legs and muscular back as he moved off the bed and pulled on his robe. The she hopped up, wrapping her own robe about her and followed him out the bedroom door. For some reason, she only now realized that she was famished…

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sarek was carefully explaining the need to prepare and eat one's meal in the present. It was important for his young wife to learn to focus on the task at hand when her natural instinct was to try and take too many things in at once, and for the future she would need to be prepared on how to comport herself at functions.

"We have little resources here, so that any sustenance is traditionally looked upon as a gift to be thankful for. So that as we prepare the meal, we think of what went into our receipt of these treasured resources, and thank what path brought them to us."

She watched him intently as he had combined the ingredients, giving her the name and origin of each one, and what type of nutrition they provided.

"Do you understand?"

"Not all of it, but that's okay. I love to just listen to your voice," She looked up at him and laughed, lighting up the moment in a way he had all too dearly missed when they were parted.

But that was best not for her to know and take advantage of. Sarek sighed, lifted his brows, and took a long stern look at her

"Don't look at me like that," she continued to laugh, "I'm not Vulcan, and I don't have that eidetic memory. It will take sometime for the details, but I do get the gist of what you are saying."

Suddenly, she tilted her head in thought, "Was it wrong of me to talk when we were eating last night?"

"Talking is permitted, but it should be of a casual nature, not anything that would distract from the atmosphere of the meal."

A slight crease found it's way across her brow—

"You need not ever have to withhold anything when it just is the two of us, Amanda. "

He picked up the dish of scraps that he had put to one side and added some protein from the refrigeration unit, before letting out a soft, low whistle and placing the bowl on the floor.

"And that's for?"

"Eechiya"

"Our sellout?"

"Sehlat."

His wife seemed to take that in stride and went back to questioning him about the food he was preparing for them, trying to snare a particularly tempting item..,

Suddenly, belatedly, Eechiya introduced himself with a loud harrumph.

Amanda turned and let out a scream, sending the large animal into panic, skittering across the floor in an attempt to hide behind Sarek, almost knocking both of them over in the process.

"That's the bear I heard!"

"Sehlat."

" When you told me we had a pet, I thought…"

She looked at him with a mischievous scolding in her eyes, leaving Sarek to wonder that maybe it had not been so wise not to go any further in his description last night.

"Should I try and pet him?" she asked, slowly making her way to his side of the counter.

"He is quite tame, " Sarek looked down at his old companion, gently speaking a few words of assurance to the frightened beast.

"Well," She laughed at the huge animal, crouching behind her husband in fear, offering her hand forward carefully, "He seems more like the Cowardly Lion, doesn't he? I guess this will be interesting…"

He didn't want to test his luck any further by asking just who or what a "cowardly lion" was as Amanda tentatively moved to introduce herself to the third and final member of their household.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The better part of that first month had been spent with Sarek introducing his new wife to her new world. To start, he had shown Amanda around ShiKahr visiting his favorite sites within the city, getting her acquainted with whatever locations she might need to find on her own at some point, such as the off-world enclave. She delighted in everything it seemed, anxious and excited to learn all she could of the city he called home. But he was ever aware of eyes that were quickly averted or conversations that fell silent as they neared, and which, upon their passing would surely have a new topic to discuss.

He then moved to take her to the less frequented places, known for their beauty or their contribution to the long history of his people. Even in these out of the way places, however, his attempts were not always successful as this shrine or that site would decide that outworlders were not permitted, and Sarek would return to their aircar, with his wife patiently waiting inside its cool recesses in anticipation, only for him to have to tell her it was not open to visitors that day. It was in part true, for despite the "for you alone, Xcha'ala'at", where she was forbidden to step he would step no longer as well. Even the family shrines, where he should be welcomed as a member of the highest household, where under other circumstances it would be an honor to receive him, even there the doors were closed to the two of them, perhaps never to be opened to him again.

Sometimes, he thought she might have guessed some of what had transpired as she strived to make it seem like it didn't matter, stop after stop with sudden, unexpected closings. But it did matter to him that the world that he thought he had known so well was like a stranger to him.

And now, after only two days back at home, Amanda began a line of questioning which he had long dreaded, patiently waiting until the evening meal was finished to bring up anything of importance.

"I signed up for the online courses that you suggested," She let a little smile play around the corners of her eyes, "They seem to be of help. N'cha et drehu"

"Dre'hua"

A small frown crossed her brow, "That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"You said drehu. It has quite a different meaning."

"I guess I will need to practice with a real person," she laughed, "because I really cannot hear the difference."

"Perhaps it would be best to avoid that particular phrase for the time being."

She looped her arm through his as they walked through the garden, and taking that slender arm in his other hand he pulled it just a little tighter in assurance. His wife looked up at him tenderly, her eyes dancing with the last rays of the fading sunlight, then looking downward as he heard the feared words.

"Why in the month I've been here, why haven't I met any members of your family? I mean, not a single cousin has stopped to introduce themselves, and you haven't made much of an effort to introduce me to them either."

Oh, but I have, Sarek thought to himself, but the refusal to see him until he abandoned his "folly" as they called her, had not even gotten him past a threshold or returned a call. The family had refused in unison to accept his decision as any more than temporary insanity and that once he had come to his senses and sent Amanda on her way, they might consider accepting him back into the fold. And with the council now taking action against him, well, it only made it easier for them to rationalize their stance. Quickly, he worked to put together a response.

"I shall talk to my sister, and see if she is free to visit. She is very busy, but I might be able to induce her to accept our invitation."

He tried to make his voice light and causal, he was in reality looking at the task as anything but.

"I'd like that," Amanda looked at him eyes filled with innocence and optimism. Optimism was what Sarek needed now with the task set before him .

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The formal trappings of their family homes now seemed most unwelcoming to him. Sarek realized what a great pleasure it was to have a home that when he walked in the door, it was just the two of them. No extended family, no retainers to have to keep face for. He did not need to be Xcha'ala'at, Ambassador, son of Skonn and T'Pazia. When his door closed, he would be Sarek, and the only title he need answer to was "husband".

T'Prala had kept him waiting over long, obviously in an attempt to dissuade him from whatever task had caused him to darken their door. She was closest to him of the family, and he had hoped she would at least be open to his request. He looked out through the tall library windows to the garden where he had spent many hours as a child. It was neat and ordered, everything in its proper place just as he had remembered. And now, looking out on it he realized what had always puzzled him regarding it. Nothing was allowed to grow as it wanted or should in the garden. It had grown only along the paths and only in the size and direction the family had demanded. There was no room for a wild flower, no allowance for a jai blossom that sometime found it's way into a bed of ha'lei'ha. Now he saw that flaw mirrored in his society. What of diversity if it was only to be allowed in a prescribed manner?

He heard the door open behind him, however he did not immediately acknowledge the new presence, but continued to gaze into the garden, not turning to face his sister.

"I am very busy, Sarek. I am not the creature of leisure as you seem to be right now. "

He held his breath and his tongue. He was not here to argue or debate.

"I would ask this as a favor of you, T'Prala. I would ask you to come to the house for a brief visit, just to meet her."

"And incur T'Pau's and the council's wrath?"

"That has never stopped you from doing anything in the past."

"Nor obviously you. Your actions are being traced to our grandfather's weakness in dealing with these humans and the fondness he always seemed to have for them. Now his folly has seen its final result in this nonsense of yours."

"There is no "folly" here. I will not have you speak such of my wife."

"Wife? By what ceremony--"

Sarek finally turned and glared at his sister, a look that had sent many other enemies retreating. He had not expected her to be so indoctrinated into the family's position and had hoped for a more open mind.

"You were always the golden child, Sarek, so talented in everything you did, that even your faults would be overlooked in deference to the factors that our father and grandfather saw in you as being essential in carrying on the family tradition of diplomacy. No one was ever permitted to say no to you, and now that they have, you have no idea what to do with yourself. Even that temper of yours, Solkar insisted would be of great use if it could be trained and molded to work in a way that it would be a tool against an adversary."

Perhaps this was so, perhaps he was indulged in some small way as a child, but over it all lay a heavy mantle of duty. Duty to his people that tossed him out into the stars and now those same people derided him for having brought back one small treasure for himself.

"I will ask you again, T'Prala, as a brother, if you would see to a duty that the family owes—"

"The family owes this one nothing, Sarek. She has brought dishonor and shame to my brother."

He narrowed his eyes and looked long and hard at his sister, searching for the girl he knew as a child who would tag behind him in desert adventures, who would listen in rapt attention to his tales of the offworld trips their father would take him on in preparation for his future. She was gone.

Turning on his heels, Sarek moved to leave, another door ready to close behind him.

"I'll go, " A tall young woman suddenly emerged from the adjoining room, "I beg forgiveness, Uncle, I did not mean to intrude but could not but hear the context of your conversation. It is not right nor honorable that you have no family to support you."

"T'Plilar, Child, there is no need for you to get involved in family politics at your age," His sister stood in the library doorway, making her point with a sharp click. How like their mother, Sarek thought, wondering whether she had a set of bells hidden somewhere to terrorize her children with as well.

"My studies are in the same fields as my uncle and my mother's forefathers, and as such I would wish to practice my English and knowledge of Earth," She nodded to Sarek, "And my reputation is not the most stellar—too many already compare me to you, Uncle, and Solkar in my 'easy' ways,"

She glanced defiantly at her mother, then turned to face her Uncle, titling her head to acknowledge a fellow miscreant.

"T'plilar-"

"Mother, I am not a child and is this not the best handled within the family? I can both honor your duties as sister to my uncle as well as assist my mother's elder brother in teaching some of our ways to his new wife. Did not Surak say 'If a building is not constructed upon solid ground, then the building will in time fall; the same is true of civilization, which must be constructed around the solid base of family, then tribe. The good of the family is all important to the good of the whole'?"

"She is too like you, Sarek, twisting Surak's words for her own purpose."

"I would not have you jeopardize any future for me," He responded softly, grateful for the offer, but not wiling to have his niece pay the price.

"I trust in your skills, Uncle. It will only be a matter of time before some offworld crisis has the council at your feet, asking for assistance, despite all of T'Pau's best efforts," she raised her brows in a familiar fashion, "And besides, I would hope that you will be sufficiently impressed by my abilities to take me on your staff one day when my studies are completed."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As soon as Eechiya moved himself up off the floor from his now accustomed at her feet and made for the door, she knew Sarek was nearby, and the entry door would open in a matter of minutes. Amanda understood his need to make the rounds at the Science Academy, and to touch base with contacts at the various embassies while waiting for his next assignment, but it had meant long and lonely days until today, and she was happy to be able to relate news of her own.

She looked at the viewscreen one last time, torn between shutting it down or keeping it up. How brave was she? She set her lips in a line of firm resolution and leaving the screen up, followed the sehlat to the door.

She met her husband at the door, waiting for a moment to make sure that he was alone, before reaching out with a hug. He pulled back a bit and proffered his fingers, she met them, trying to keep to a proper greeting, but in a moment was back in his arms, laughing.

"It pleases me to see you are doing well today, My Wife. And the source of this?"

"We had a visitor!'

"And here I thought you were pleased that I was home"

"Well of course that. But your niece, Tiplar-"

"T'plilar-"

"T'plilar." She hesitated a bit, trying to carefully correct the pronunciation, " I hope I said it right when she was here, I don't want to have insulted her."

"She is fine. She is looking to a diplomatic career herself and understands such things a mispronunciations are likely to happen, with no insult intended."

"She's a beautiful girl, Sarek, really lovely and gracious. She was telling all about the family and how proud everyone was of you."

"She did, indeed?"

Amanda laughed to herself at the way her husband pulled back his shoulders, and moved his head subtly in a way she had come to fondly think of as his prideful stance.

"She told me how busy everyone was and how they regretted not being able to visit until now. I was really happy to hear that, I had started to think that they were avoiding you because of me."

"So you enjoyed the visit?"

"Yes, and she was telling me about the artisan market in the next—what do you call a week?"

" Nasrim."

"Nasrim," saying it carefully first time around, " And she has offered to take me there."

"There is something that you need?" his tone seemed a bit cautious.

"No, not really, but I would just like to get something to christen my new home. Everything is so beautiful, but I want something I can say, 'This is my contribution.'"

Sarek nodded.

"But, I haven't let you get settled yet! Go, get changed into your house robes while I start the evening meal. T'plilar gave me some family recipe secrets that I can't wait to test!"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Amanda had quickly gotten to love this time of evening, spent after the evening's meal in the garden, come dusk when the sun had slipped below the horizon, and everywhere there seemed to be some new life waking up just as another fell into sleep.

They sat together on one of the broad, cushioned chaises, where there was room enough for her to nestle next to her husband, quietly taking in the end of day before the chill of night would send them indoors. The soft lighting along the paths had just started to glow, giving a magical cast to the sounds and sights of the garden's awakening nocturnal inhabitants. It seemed the perfect time, she thought, pulling an up light throw, cocooning them in its warmth.

"Your niece said something to me today, I don't think she meant it to slip out, but she said how important family was—and children were…"

He pulled back to look at her, the furrow between his brows deepening.

"We would not speak of this—"

"No, now listen to me. I've done some research today after she left."

"Research?"

"Yes, I was out checking the Medical Academy site. They've tried this before, Sarek—"

"And have not been successful. I know this. There is no point discussing failures or submitting ourselves to them."

"But they have this new procedure—"

"Amanda, even if this were an avenue which we would wish to explore, you are far too young to even consider—"

"Nonsense. If you know anything about human reproduction, well, 22 is the ideal age, and that's just a year away. I know you don't like to talk about this, but if I correctly understand what you have told me, there's only so many chances we will have, and I'd like to be prepared to take everyone of them."

The wall had gone up between them. She sat up and glared at him, willing him to look at her.

"Don't, Sarek. Talk to me. Don't pretend like this will all go away if you go all stoic on me."

She felt him inhale deeply, and then after a long period exhaled. He looked at her through downcast eyes, not quite ready to admit defeat, but knowing he would not have peace until he heard her out.

"What is this that you have found then?"


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

The "Vulcan Science Academy" was in fact somewhat of a misnomer. It was actually a number of affiliated academies in specific scientific studies and disciplines, relating to the study of the objective and theoretical that shared what might be seen as a single huge campus, encompassing several hundred buildings within Shikahr. It was mirrored by similar groupings in cities spread across the planet dedicated to various studies: in bi'San, of philosophy and history; in ne'Selaya'nah, of psionic and spiritual nature; and in ThirlHan studies of a full spectrum of the arts. In fact every major city seemed to have nourished academia of some type within their walls, and each city in some small way visually reflected the direction its inhabitants' intellectual pursuits had favored.

In ShiKhar, the city seemed to echo a mathematical precision in its buildings and public spaces, a certain air of uniformity hung over it, even though from a distance one could easily mistake the cities public structures as continuance of the rock outcroppings that circled it on three sides. In the low lying residential areas, this would give way to traditional homes, no more that two or three stories, and nested into the jagged foothills in a rugged type of terraforming.

As Sarek looked out from the tall, tinted windows of the adjunct Medical Research Sciences building and across the grounds to his own building off in the distance, he felt himself thankful that such a distance existed, that no one stood to question as to what he was doing, or where he was going. If they had crossed paths with one of his colleagues, he could certainly be circumspect, but he preferred not to have to.

It was difficult at best. If it were at all possible otherwise, he would not be here, but would have his wife speak directly to the researchers. For any Vulcan man, discussion of reproduction of any type skirted too close to subjects that were too personal, too dangerous. But he had no choice- Amanda knew little Vulcan and there were other … issues, ones that only his presence could deal with. At least none of these research scientists were known to him- he was spared that. He had asked for this to be strictly confidential as it might not bode well should news of their attempt reach the wrong person in an untimely manner. It would in all probability be unsuccessful, and there was no need to stir things if it was to no matter. And if by some great miracle they succeeded, well, it was best taken care of when the news could no longer stay hidden.

He turned as the door quietly opened and his wife entered, followed by several of the staff. The head researcher for the project, a particularly austere woman of the sort of indeterminate age that his people seemed to spend much of their life in, motioned for both of them to sit.

" I think that they have poked and prodded me within an inch of my life, " Amanda whispered as she settled in next to him, "Do you think I passed?"

"I am sure your physical condition will not be a problem."

The researcher slipped into her seat across from them, motioning for her assistants to leave them in private. If she had any qualms about doing the procedure, there was nothing in her demeanor to indicate them. She turned to Sarek and proceeded to direct the conversation to him in a rapid pace in vulcan, ignoring the presence of another being in the room that might not be able to keep track if her knowledge were rudimentary, let alone not understanding the language at all. That said presence was one who was volunteering to be her prime subject seemed to be of no consequence.

"The female is in good health, so that will not be an issue."

"Her age?"

"Is actually more or less ideal in Terran terms for a prima gravidia, though to us as Vulcans might seem dangerously young. My main concern is you Xcha'ala'at There will surely be reaction from your family elders, as it is not as if this does not have implications within your tribe. I would be far more at ease were you not of such an honored--"

"Consider it as such," he quickly responded, not allowing her to finish the sentence.

"Xcha'ala'at-"

"Sarek," He firmly stated his name, less any title. If he was to have the scientist consider him as an average citizen, the title would need to be eliminated for now at least.

He felt Amanda squirming in the seat next to him, anxious to know what was going on. He wished that he did not have to submit her to sitting, waiting for translation while words swirled around her, but then again, this current topic of conversation was something he felt she was probably best not made aware of. If it were her desire to make this attempt, he would not let tribal politics interfere.

"Sarek." The researcher seemed uncomfortable with the lack of the title. He was only grateful that she was of an unaligned tribe.

"Is she telling you what will happen?" Amanda whispered next to him and he sought to move the conversation back to the matter at hand. He nodded then turned his attention back to the researcher.

"The procedure?"

"We will harvest eggs and then treat them so that they will be more susceptible to fertilization when the time comes. We will also do some genetic manipulation at that time to ensure that if fertilization occurs, there will be at least temporary viability. When your time is near, the eggs will then be transferred back into the female. If fertilization occurs, the next step for manipulation will be during gastrulation, approximately 21 days from conception and will continue for the next 7 weeks, during with manipulations would be done once it becomes apparent they might be needed. At this time period it may be required that the female be under constant surveillance, so it may be necessary for her to remain here in the medical center. After 10 weeks, embryogenesis will be completed and it is only to wait and see as the fetus develops if it will be viable."

"And the success rate?"

"Of fertilization? 10.7513 percent. An additional 5.42 percent are lost before the 10 week period ends."

"And the remaining?"

"2.1 percent remain viable up to 2 months prior. Currently, the few attempts at Terran crossbreeding have miscarried prior to the 8th month of gestation. However, with this new process with have been able to bring a Rigellian mix to full term. It is our hope that this will prove successful with additional species as well once subjects have presented themselves. The odds for a successful delivery---"

"It is not necessary."

Briefly, Sarek turned and explained the procedures to his wife, leaving out the odds, but stressing that there had been no Terran successes to date. There was no point in unrealistic expectations. She bit her lip as she took it in.

"Do you have any additional questions?" He asked Amanda, anxious to be done with the interview. It was difficult for him to understand why the clinical discussion of genetic manipulations and crossbreeding made him feel ill at ease, but it did and he would be all too glad to leave.

"Only one," she replied, a shy smile dancing at the corners of her mouth as she looked into her husband's face.

He raised his brows waiting for a response. She looked up at him, eyes clear and bright, full of hope and optimism.

"When do we start?"

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The events of the prior day still swirled around in her head. Amanda felt an odd mix of being anxious and relieved, wanting the days to move faster one moment and slower the next. It was good that T'Plilar had volunteered for this excursion, for she was sure that she was trying Sarek's patience. Without speaking Vulcan, and not yet really knowing anyone else, her husband was taking the brunt of her loneliness up to now. It was good to be able to do some exploring, and as much as she loved her husband, she was relieved to be out from under his ever watchful eye, if only for an afternoon. She understood his desire to protect her, but she needed to experience some things on her own—or at least with a less watchful eye on her.

The walk from the transit stop was brief, and the morning air still had a touch of coolness within it. As they turned the corner into the square, Amanda let out a little gasp of delight. Up until now, except for the garden at home, Vulcan had seemed to blend into one color, a rich, red rust that in various shades, tints and hues that seemed to fill everything, from the buildings to the mountains, from the fabric of Sarek's robes to the sand below their feet. But, here and now, displayed before her was every color she could imagine gracing tents and banners, promising of treasures that they might hold. She felt like a child in a candy store.

"These are all their own works?"

T'Plilar nodded, " it is required that they are all original works by the artists and craftspeople at each stall."

"It's amazing. I don't know where to start! How many?"

"Approximately 532."

" 'Approximately' 532?"

"Yes, some stalls will be empty from time to time. The largest artisan market is in ThirlHan. There are well over 1000 there. Sarek should bring you there some time if this is of interest to you."

She mulled the name of the city in her mind, trying to remember the places that they had visited.

"It is on the coast, so you would have remembered, "T'Plilar added, as if reading her mind. Amanda certainly hoped not after Sarek's nightly instructions on shielding. She was trying to learn not to present herself like an open book to anyone that might want to take advantage.

"Is there a good place to start?"

"Most come to the market intending to purchase specific items, but having never been here before, one assumes that you need to acquaint yourself with what is available."

It was like a sensory overload, she had gotten unused to such a variety of sights and sounds. Stall after stall filled with color and motion, each beckoning her like a hundred individual siren songs. Some items seem to have been crafted with precise mathematical precision of design, while other seemed to be free of any such boundaries. Amanda wandered amazed by the variety: tapestry, pottery, sculpture, kinetics, musical instruments, jewelry, the list of items offered went on and on. It seemed to her that as soon as she settled upon looking further into an object, another would catch her eye a stall or two down.

Finally, bright swatch of finely woven fabric reeled her in, in shades of blue and green that seemed to move and shimmer when she tried to concentrate on it.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it?" Amanda picked up the scarf, amazed at the skill of the weaving and the beauty of the colors, afraid to even ask the cost.

"Indeed."

"Probably more than we could afford," she added tentatively, not really sure of what she could afford. Patting the swatch of fabric as she returned it to its spot on the display, she looked up at her husband's niece for a clue, and thought she saw surprise spark in the young woman's dark eyes.

"I would not foresee a problem with the purchase of anything here, unless my uncle-"

T'Plilar stopped suddenly in mid-thought and changed directions.

" I am sure Sarek would have you choose what ever you wish," the young woman picked up the scarf and called the stall owner, "The color is very complimentary to your eyes. I think that would please him."

A brief exchange occurred between the two Vulcan women, and Amanda caught herself watching the body language, trying to see in them what could not be heard in the evenly paced conversation.

The craftswoman cast an eye in Amanda's direction, followed by a rapid progression of words. It seemed to Amanda that she would want nothing less than to not sell the piece, but T'Plilar pulled herself up to past her full height, a trick Amanda had seen often enough in her husband and pass a few sharp words as well until the transaction was resolved.

Is this the way they barter? Not that it mattered, the scarf filled with swirls of exotic blues and greens, shot with copper metallics was evidently now hers.

For the next few hours they wove in and out of the artisan stalls, marveling at the wares displayed there, but Amanda became increasing aware that at her approach, the vendors were suddenly too busy unless T'Plilar stepped in, and just as suddenly Amanda could not help but lose interest in the item in question.

Now closing into mid-day, the heat had started to rise, and one last stop- a stall specializing in musical instruments. She had no idea of quite what she needed, but described what she could of it to her husband's niece.

"There is an instrument I see here," she pointed to a display of stringed instruments that stood upon the table, a mix of exotic woods and metals, though none of as intricate a design as the one in question, "that I have seen in Sarek's study that he never plays because he says he is missing a string…"

"The lytherette? Sarek no longer plays? He was known for his skill in this."

"So getting new strings is a good idea."

"Indeed, we will make sure he has no further excuses."

Even as T'Plilar turned to make an inquiry, the stalls owner made to snap the curtains across the stall. Had Amanda not known better, she would have thought an argument was taking place between her husband's niece and the artisan. The set of T'Plilar's mouth and the narrowing of her eyes- they were little clues that she had learned to read while watching Sarek. And like Sarek, the young woman did not let the other party get the best of her. She successfully emerged from the fray with not one, but two sets of strings.

And when they turned to walk away, Amanda couldn't help but feel the burning of a hundred pair of dark eyes in the back of her head.

"Why don't we just sell tickets?"

"Amanda?"

"They are all looking at me aren't they?

"They are not used to seeing outworlders in this part of the city."

"Am I supposed to confine myself to a roped in area so as not contaminate the natives? Too, late for that, I suppose. I've already infected one of them. But they all know who I am, don't they?" She spun around quickly enough to catch a disapproving look directed at her back, "Curious as to the little pet that followed Sarek home and whom he refuses to see the logic of sending on her way?"

"Amanda?"

"I'm sorry, T'Plilar, I guess the heat is just getting to me. You have been so patient and kind putting up with me this morning. Right now I just think it's about time to go home and have a nice cool bath, followed by a nap."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She was on her own for dinner, Sarek having been called to what now was an overlong meeting from earlier in the day. Unfortunately, it only gave her more time to mull over the events of the marketplace. She had been so optimistic after their meeting at the Medical Research Offices, like something good was about to happen. But that had all changed. Today a line had been drawn between her—and Vulcan, it seemed.

She brought her meal up to their bedroom balcony and settled in to watch the nightfall on one of the chaises, piling on a successive profusion of blankets and throws as the evening set in. She wanted to be out under the stars tonight, wanted to know which one was home, if she could ever call Earth home again.

She could sense Sarek before she could see him, feeling the welcome tendrils of his mind reaching out to her. She wanted to open up, but in fear felt herself block the embrace.

"Amanda?"

She smiled her best smile, and tossed the throws to the side, patting the space on the chaise beside her. He was already in his house robes- he must have been home for sometime before she realized it. She must had fallen asleep, here under the stars, longing for an understanding of something to call home, somewhere she would be welcomed, and as her husband settled in next to her and she tossed the covers back over him, she knew that at this instance it always would be next to him where ever that might be.

She sighed, trying to figure out the best approach, but before she could-

"Why do you lay out here in the cold?"

"It's not cold anymore, not with you to warm me."

She could imagine the mild scold that he would allow to play across his face, hidden now in the shadows of the dim light that came from the bedroom.

"I have not always been here to warm you."

"Mmmm."

Amanda cuddled in close to him, willing herself to forget all of her fears and just lie here with him, being lulled by the slow steady rise and fall of his chest, letting her hand slide along the seam of robe, allowing herself the luxury of tracing the smooth, warm heat of his skin as she looked into the dark night above.

"I was trying to find Earth, up there, in the sky."

Sarek took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to meet his, "You are homesick, my wife?"

"Not anymore, not when you are here."

She allowed herself to trace the strong angles of his face, the sweep of his ears, the wave of a lock of hair, settling her fingers on his lips for a fleeting moment, before resting it back upon his chest. At times like these, it was as if she felt an energy in the air between them, locking them in a time and moment, that neither lasted long enough or was too long before the next step in the dance occurred, when their lips met in a kiss, gentle at first, but still capable of taking her breath away before the next kiss came filled with a passion that she could never have once imagined.

And when they pulled away, she let her head rest against his broad, strong shoulder, and thought of the day event's, how she felt every eye was upon her, judging her. She was a human, she understood prejudice, but Sarek, he was so proud of his peoples' commitment to diversity. She hoped...

"Amanda?"

"Hmmm," She pulled back and smiled at him, "I bought a gift for you today, strings for the li-lytherette? T'Plilar said that you are quite talented. Why don't you play anymore?"

"For a long time I had no reason."

"Now, you do. I want to hear you play."

"At this moment?" Sarek lifted his brows in surprise.

"I have other things in mind for you at _this_ moment…"

"Perhaps then it is best to move to a warmer location before we proceed any further."

"No," she replied pulling the blankets tight around them," I want you out here, surrounded by the stars, with no one but them to witness and judge how much I love you."

And in the recesses of her mind, she felt him answer her in kind, and the night spun its cocoon around them, wrapping them hidden from all prying eyes in its safe embrace.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Bart McHenry, the long-time Terran Ambassador to Vulcan was what most humans referred to as a "bear of a man", with bright copper hair and skin that would toast up to a bright red summer sky within minutes of being subject to the Vulcan sun. Hence, as he liked to tell people, he should own a sun block factory with all he used over the years he had spent on the planet. He had a genial nature about him that allowed him to take the occasional indignities that certain Vulcans would suffer him with an open mind. He knew for a fact that not all of them were like that, but some did act "as if they had a bee up their ass and just couldn't let it go", as he was fond of saying in private. To many his easy air would seem at odds with the general Vulcan populace, but it had in some odd way been just what was needed at certain important junctures. And over the years, he found he would count a large number of Vulcans as the greatest of friends,

He had known Sarek for many a year, having first crossed paths with him when Bart had been assigned as an assistant to an assistant to a minor member of the embassy staff. At that time, Sarek was in the process of starting out his diplomatic career in earnest; familiarizing himself with Earth and its denizens before being sent on his first major assignment. Bart's first run in with one of the scions of the High Houses, might not have been an ideal way to start a friendship, the two of them stepping on each others toes and they tried to understand proper protocol for each government. The young Vulcan could easily have been one of the aforesaid bee keepers, as many of his social rank were, but Bart had a bit of psi talent of his own. He had an instinct that let him sense if someone was the genuine thing or if someone was just putting on airs, and both men ended up finding a path to work together than against one another for common goals.

As the Terran Ambassador had found out long ago, gossip, no matter how illogical one might presume it would be, was not a past time confined to humans. Vulcans did a very good job of it as well, especially when certain characters felt someone was due for a comeuppance, as his great grandmother used to say. In those times and for those citizens who were at the bad end of the stick, news would travel fast, and as was the case on Earth, the subject of the gossip was usually someone who did not deserve the vitriol launched against them.

He had been on a brief vacation on Trias IV when the "trouble" had arrived on Vulcan in the form of a young Terran woman. Had he been in residence at the time, it would have been nice to have been able to open the Embassy doors to a fellow compatriot, a friendly face and a "home" cooked meal to the singular girl at the center of the hurricane. Unfortunately, he was not, and his staff had strict instructions to steer clear of getting involved with matters pertaining to any of the High Houses. He didn't want to think how isolated Amanda Grayson might feel, despite her husband's best efforts. Vulcan was a harsh world – in fact the harshness of the environment too often mirrored the hard exterior of many of its citizens.

He was figuring out how to do his best now to make up for lost time, He sat in the his office, mulling over Sarek's request for a meeting, and knowing full well Sarek was not one to ask for anything, it was a matter of concern.

A sharp knock roused him from his thoughts, followed swiftly by an aide sticking her head in the door.

"Sir, the Exa-ely-et…."

"Xcha'ala'at Sarek," With a sweeping gesture, the tall, intense figure entered the room Introducing himself. Bart had always envied that capacity to turn heads no matter what the venue. He had tried at one time to get some pointers on how to make an entrance, but Sarek had only looked at him, with either a glimmer of confusion or bemusement in his eyes, Bart was never sure which it was.

"Good to see you are in one piece," As Bart rose from his desk, he motioned to his guest to sit in one of the sofas in the casual conversation area by the large bay windows that looked over the embassy courtyard, and then motioned to the aide. She was a temp up from the embassy pool, and he took a few moments to place her name

""Cindy?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Bring us in a pitcher of water and a few glasses, pronto."

"Yes, sir."

"And Cindy?"

"Sir?"

"If you plan on keeping you position here, it would be a good idea to learn how to properly pronounce our visitors' titles."

Chastised, the aide quickly disappeared leaving the two men to exchange greetings.

"Well, my dear friend, you've certainly gotten yourself in a bit of a muddle,' Bart attempted to lighten the mood once the door was securely closed.

Sarek sighed, "Indeed. It would seem that I may need to consider pursuing a number of new options in terms of a career. I appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to meet with me, Bartholomew."

With a warning knock, the aide appeared with the requested refreshments. The conversation halted until she departed once again. Then pouring a glass, Bart offered it to Sarek, the traditional Vulcan acknowledgement of friendship, by sharing water. Bart would have preferred it was something of a more alcoholic nature just about now, but on Vulcan, unlike Earth, that would be the height of rudeness, never mind that it was now after noon.

"Never enough time for a friend. What the hell is up with the council? Do they realize what a bunch of intolerant fools this makes them to be, putting you under censure?"

"I was not aware that this was common knowledge."

"Well, it is now, cause the Nori have been clamoring for your services with the treaty that they are trying to hammer out with Chimeria. And news travels fast when they are trying to cover up with weak excuses about your health!"

"My health is fine."

"Which is certainly evident to anyone that saw you marching in here, so it's pretty clear what's going on."

"I did not wish this… situation…. to become a matter of public discussion," Sarek paused and then added the obvious, "And you will tell me that I have been in the diplomatic service long enough to know otherwise, and I would agree."

"Well, the council lost that chance didn't they? Damn fools, and they will be calling you back into service before you know it. May be your time to plan an escape!"

"Escape?" Sarek furrowed his brow in confusion,

"From the rigors of civil service?" Bart responded laughing, "Never mind. I know that you were born to have service as your lot in life and not spending your time on the Trias IV beaches. But boy, they have some great beaches, I tell you."

The Terran settled back into the deep cushions of the sofa and continued, "Listen, I want to have a small dinner party, just a couple dozen people in the diplomatic community to welcome Amanda to her new home. Have her meet some of her own people here, maybe make a few friends."

"This is most generous of you."

"Nonsense. I would hope that if the situation were reversed you would do the same for me."

"Indeed," Sarek looked down for a moment at his folded hands, carefully ordering his thoughts, "And now, I find myself asking another favor of you. Should anything ever happen, I would like to have Amanda know that she will be able to turn to you for assistance. "

"I can't imagine…"

"There are many things on my world that you may not imagine, Bartholomew McHenry. Perhaps too many things."

Bart sucked in a deep breath. One look at his longtime friend and he knew there was no point in asking. Over the years, he'd seen those curtains drawn against outsider's questions too many times. Once, when he was much less inexperienced in the ways of Vulcans, he might have pressed further. Now, he knew well enough to accept what he was given on faith and ask no more.

"You have my word. "

An awkward silence hung in the air for a brief moment, before the Terran Ambassador sought to shift the mood, "We need to show the old birds that you have not crawled up into a hole somewhere, waiting for them to come to their senses. From what I understand the council is giving them all sorts of excuses why they can't have you but the negotiators for Nore are having nothing of it. I'd give it at most 3 weeks before the council reconsiders their position. And in the mean time, we'll have that dinner party next week; keep you in everyone's eye- and let them know your health has never been better!"

Bart may have been imagining it, but it seemed a spark had been reignited in his old friend's eyes- or at least he hoped so.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Author's Notes:_

_Bart McHenry and his wife Lenna are characters that were created by my late best friend, Dusty Jones, for a series of stories she never completed. Although in those stories they were professors at MIT, their characters are the same ones that we spent many a day creating adventures for and then laughing at those same escapades._

_Many thanks to all who have "favorited" the story, and especially to those who have taken the time to review. This story is now 4 times longer than any of my previous stories, and may be only a third completed. It is only with your continued support and encouragement that the story goes on, so please let me know!_


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Standing in front of the mirror, Amanda smoothed down the front of the simple black silk cocktail dress that she had brought with her from Earth. It had served her well at any number of her grandmother's dinner parties, and she suspected that it would do as well here. Conservative in the front, as she turned to look at from another angle in the mirror, she realized it looked virtually backless, something that on Earth she had given little thought to, but here she would certainly need to keep the light lace jacket on. Reaching over to the bed to where the jacket lay, her hand brushed against the second outfit that still lay untouched upon the bed- the Vulcan one. As beautiful as it was, right now she had mixed feelings about it and was unsure just how to deal with them.

But it was wonderful: a long sleeved tunic and trousers in a deep blue that resembled a silk charmeuse, soft and sensuous, sliding though her hands like water as she held it up and let it brush across her cheek. The sleeveless vest was of deeper blue in ombre shades that reflected the colors of twilight on a velvety fabric shot with crystals. Did she dare even imagine herself in it?

Sarek had not made her decision any easier, telling her it was her choice, although she could not help but think her husband would prefer her in the latter. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to picture herself in Vulcan dress. She had quickly taken to wearing loose trousers and tunics for everyday wear. They were if nothing else cool and comfortable, something that was much appreciated in the heat of the day, but they could really be of any origin. This one though was different, and when she wore it, Amanda would be making a declaration of sorts. It was a step that she wasn't sure she was ready to take and yet…. wouldn't she just be playing into their hands, admitting defeat by restricting herself to wearing the Terran dress and rejecting the Vulcan clothing? She would be admitting they were right, that she would never feel comfortable here, never be accepted.

With a force that surprised her, Amanda undid the dress and let it fall to the floor. She would hide the cocktail dress back away in the far reaches of her wardrobe. One day, she might need it again, but for now she was wife of an Xcha'ala'at. Although she still did not quite understand what that meant, she might as well start dressing the part if she meant to stay one.

She slid one leg and then the other into the trousers, tying them tightly about her waist, and then pulling the square-necked tunic over her head. It felt as sumptuous as it looked, with exquisitely delicate embroidery around the wrist and neckline, punctuated with barely perceptible seed beads that mimicked the crystals that were scattered on the vest. Except for more luxurious fabrics, they really look not much different in style from the outfits she wore daily now. Maybe it was not such a big leap. She picked up the vest, lingering on the richness of the fabric and gems, the subtlety of the color gradient, and then she slipped it on. Fastening the lone large silver clasp underneath her breasts, she turned and gazed at the new Amanda in the mirror.

It was if she were viewing a fairytale princess, straight from the Arabian Nights, wrapped in twilight and sprinkled with stars. Her hair, which still rode over her shoulders in thick, dark waves, was the next problem to tackle. She wondered how she was going to get it to look the way she suspected it should.

Suddenly, she felt her husband's presence behind her, almost instinctively taking the loose curls and working them into a twist with long skillful fingers. She wondered where….

"There should be pins with the scarf."

Scarf? She had not even seen it, but there it was, having been neatly folded up under the tunic, filmy and delicate beyond imagining, it glimmered with the same tiny crystals. On top of it, there lay several glittering hairpins, which she handed her husband one by one, as he secured her unruly locks, sweeping them up off the nape of her neck.

"Here", he reached out his hand for the last of the pins which he deftly put one in place, "Shake your head, so we can make sure it holds."

Laughing, she tossed her head, and then turning, stood up on her toes and planted a kiss on his nose. Sarek looked at her, eyes widened, and she laughed again.

"I am not sure I want to know where you learnt how to do hair!"

Her husband brushed an errant curl from her forehead, only to have it spring right back. Defeated, he sighed and let his hand caress the nape of her neck for one brief moment. Admiring his work, he adjusted the vest's high collar and let his fingers lightly rest on the base of her throat.

"Reach into my pocket, you will find a box."

She reached deep into the folds of his tunic, until she located the box. It was flat and slender and almost matched the velvety blue material of her tunic, and on top of it were several intricate glyphs in silver.

"Open it."

Amanda undid the clasp and then let out a gasp. Within lay a necklace- a narrow cord that ended in a cast curl on each end, one of which held a large cabochon filled with iridescent shades of blues, and sparked with pinpricks like diamonds that seemed to move and flow in the light. It was like gazing into a living star field. She looked into her husband's eyes, speechless as he wrapped it around her neck, catching the ends at base of her throat and hooking them securely within one another.

Amanda turned to up to look at him, a million questions in her eyes, none of which she suspected he would answer. Sarek lightly rested his one hand on the sparkling gem, and allowed the other to caress her brow for a long moment, eyes closed, as she watched her husband intently. Then he reached over to the bed and picked up the scarf, draping it loosely about her head and shoulders.

"I am most pleased that you made this choice, my wife," he let his fingers gently smooth her brow once more, then follow down to her chin. Lifting it up, he bent and gently kissed her. Pulling back, she smiled. Her decision had been the right one.

Then turning back to face the full-length mirror, Amanda gazed in amazement at the exotic creature with her face. They were indeed like some regal couple from an imaginary tale, her small figure wrapped in cool blues, sparkling with silver and crystal, and her husband, tall and dark, in rusts and gold. Like Titania and Oberon, it seemed as if they were caught in a midsummer night's dream

A chime sounded in the distance. The aircar had arrived and if not off to a ball, they were off to a their first public dinner on Vulcan as husband and wife. She took Sarek's hand and squeezed it, forgetting any doubts she may have had.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The verandah offered a welcome breath of fresh air. It was amazing how quickly Amanda had become unaccustomed to the noise and press of a crowded party. She didn't have any problems with such gatherings, and certainly she had attended enough of them, given by her grandmother. The mostly the informal dinners that her grandmother loved to hold were attended by a wide variety of the denizens of any number of worlds along with well-known Terran politicians and diplomats. And after all, Amanda laughed to herself, it was at such an informal dinner that had met her husband. All the same, it was just that it was nice to take a breather now and then, away from the questions and curious eyes.

It had been a wonderful evening, filled with Terran dishes that she had forgotten how much she missed- good "home cooked" food as Ambassador McHenry liked to call it. She was introduced to several dozen members of the diplomatic community on Vulcan, as well as most of the staff at the Terran Embassy, and a few non-Vulcan scholars that were in residence at the Science Academy. If anything might have been missing it was the presence of other Vulcans, but this passed her mind only in a fleeting moment, as she went the rounds of introduction, trying to remember the names and positions of each person in her mind.

A sudden movement to her left, and she heard the approach of voices, voices that obviously thought they were alone. As Amanda became all too aware of the subject of their conversation, she faded back into the shadows, hiding behind a conveniently placed potted shrub, intent on making herself as small as possible.

"And what did you think of her- what do they call her?" A young blonde woman, probably a few years older than Amanda asked as she made her way to the edge of the verandah.

"Etor tchee-kay-ahn. Roughly translated, the Earther whore," Her male companion walked beside the blonde, with a slightly tipsy swagger.

"That's a rather colorful phrase from these cold fish. One wonders what got into him- to put his career in jeopardy by running off and marrying her without tribal permission."

"From what I understand, they don't even view it as a marriage. I guess they are just shacking up as far as the rest of the planet is concerned," the man replied, taking another sip from the glass that he twirled in his hands, "And rumor has it at the very least T'Pau was furious and demanded he be pulled from diplomatic duty. They have always had a problem keeping him in line evidently. A very talented man, perhaps too talented."

"And where do you get your source for all this gossip—given that Vulcans don't gossip."

"Oh, they do it all right. The trick is not to let on you understand a word of what they are saying."

A new figure emerged in the circle of light cast from the adjoining rooms, casting a larger shadow upon the couple.

"Cindy, isn't it? You know the rules, I catch you involved in this sort of gossip again, and you're on your way home,"

As the young blonde dashed off the verandah and back through the crowded room, as the Terran Ambassador turned to the tall, spindly figure - the source of the more biting comments, "And you, John Jay, you have been warned more than once. I expect you in my office first thing in the morning."

"Sir, I—"

"I do not want to hear any of your excuses. I don't want to see your face again this evening."

The offender shuffled off, following his partner-in-crime's footsteps, as her host moved closer to where Amanda remained hidden.

"Damn fools. They need to remember that Vulcan hearing is a hell of a lot better than human hearing, pardon the language. They could be causing major problems not holding their tongues, just because they think no one is within range. If that was Sarek over there and not you, little lady, well, they would both be shipped out on the next freighter, if necessary. "

He turned to face Amanda, who remained barely visible behind the shadowing shrub.

"I'm truly sorry that you had to be subjected that. It's not right you know. Not right that you be the source of any of that nonsense within the Embassy. I want you to feel comfortable coming here. It should be a small slice of home when you need it."

"How did you know I was here?"

"That little bauble," he nodded toward the jewel at her throat, "Although I've never seen one up close before, I believe it's a 'Stars of Nahveen.' From the right angle, it seems to radiate little lights. From the wrong angle, it's practically non-existent. Legend has it that once aligned, it will act as a beacon to those that have certain psionic gifts, if you want to believe that type of thing. Me, I'm never sure how much of this is Vulcan hype and how much is true. And to tell you the truth, I don't believe I want to know."

She fingered the necklace, wondering if it or the stone had a history before her, "There seems to be so much I don't know, about Vulcan, its people, its traditions, its history-- about my husband!"

She moved up to the railing, gripping the ironwork tightly, her mouth set in a firm line. She wasn't sure what she felt: Confusion? Frustration? Disappointment?

"You know, he was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth, probably set with dilithium crystals," the ambassador laughed as he moved to stand beside her, letting his large hand rest protectively over hers, " These old High Houses, their job may have changed in that they now work for their people rather than their people working for them, but they still maintain their status in Vulcan society. I imagine they set all sorts of rules and standards among themselves. Hell, they rarely even marry ordinary Vulcans as far as I can ascertain. It took a lot for Sarek to marry you knowing that he would need to stand up against them. You're a very special little lady."

"I didn't know, I didn't realize…"

"Close to the vest. Sarek always operates on a need to know basis. But in this instance, I'm sure that he just didn't want to see you hurt."

"Do you really think so?"

"He did what he believed in by marrying you, and not what he knew others wanted him to do. That's damn hard in a society that really structures itself in terms of acceptable behavior like this one does. But you know, this ability to do what he believes is right; it serves him well off world. It means that when a peace broker is needed, he is at the head of the list."

Amanda looked off into the distance, "I want to make him as proud of me as I am of him."

"I have to think that he saw something special in you. And as Louisa Saint's granddaughter, I don't have one doubt that you'll be able to handle anything that is thrown at you. It's just a question of learning the rules," He gave her hand a final pat before offering his arm, "Now, I believe I hear some music starting up, and if that husband of yours will not dance with you, I'm sure I'll be fighting off some of those younger guys for the honor."

She laughed at the thought, a light sparkling laugh seem to fill the space with healing.

"I won't pretend even after 20 years that I understand these people," her host continued, "They want us to believe they are ruled by logic, but in truth they seem to be ruled more by ritual and tradition then anything else. And for them, that is wholly logical, no matter how crazy it may appear to us. They've been called a race of 'logical mystics'—now there's an oxymoron for you!"

She looked off into the distance one last time, across over the formal garden below. The biosphere allowed a proper garden, heady with the smell of roses, and the scent of a soft summer rain on a simulated summer breeze.

"I thought I would like to figure a way to have roses someday," She looked out in the distance, trying vainly to stop the tears that welled in her eyes by changing the subject, "but right now…"

He pulled a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to her to wipe her eyes, "Let's show them you've got enough spunk in you to let their opinions roll down your back."

"Ambassador McHenry, thank you."

"Please, call me Bart. I may be old enough to be your father, but I don't want to be reminded of it too often."

"Now where have the two of you been?" Lenna McHenry strolled up to them, as soon as they came off the verandah and back into the light of the function room. Bart offered his wife his other arm, and she quickly pulled it tight to her.

"Newlyweds seem to be the same the galaxy over." Lenna laughed as she peered around her husband to Amanda, "That husband of yours has been looking all over for you—trying to make it as inconspicuous as possible, of course!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The recesses of the aircar were dark and quiet. She was safe now from prying eyes and sharp tongues, as she nestled in close to her husband, letting the gentle hum of the motor lull her into a half sleep.

" You and Ambassador McHenry had a long conversation this evening," Sarek spoke softly, as if not to break the spell.

"Yes, we did. I like him a lot- he certainly speaks his mind," she snuggled in even closer, absorbing the warmth of his body and letting it flow through hers.

"With friends, yes. Among others, you would see a different man."

Even as Sarek said it, she thought how much that seemed to apply to her husband as well. She hugged him close for a brief moment before he loosened her grasp, and moved her so that he could look directly into her eyes.

"I want you to know that should anything ever happen—"

"No—"

"Yes, listen, should anything ever happen, I want you to know that you need to go to him. He will protect you and see tat no harm comes to you. Promise me this," the gentle tone of his voice belayed the firmness of his request.

"I promise."

There was a long silence as the aircar made it's way through the quiet backstreets.

"Sarek?"

"Hmm?" He sounded as tired as she felt.

"Are we married? I know we are on Earth. But here on Vulcan, do they consider us as married?"

"Who would have you think otherwise?"

Suddenly, her husband now seemed very much awake, pulled out of the peaceful lull. But she really didn't want to go into the conversation that she had overheard.

"We both know the truth and that is all that matters, is it not? Do you wish to accord the power to others to define our relationship? This is not the Amanda I know…."

"It's nothing really, just wondering if we needed to have some sort of ceremony here to make it official," Amanda tried to back track, making light of her remark.

Luckily, the car stopped before he could make any response, and she quickly moved to exit. They were home. As they crossed the threshold, she wrapped her arm around his and rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes and letting him take the lead. It seemed, at least for the time being to let sleeping dogs, or perhaps sleeping sehlats, lie.

Suddenly Sarek stopped, and Amanda was roused from her peaceful state. She glanced up at him as he seemed to be concentrating on a blinking light in the distance on the com link. He gently let go of her arm and strode across the room, deftly pressing a few buttons on the monitor. Curious she followed her husband to see some sort of official seal fill the screen for a moment before an unfamiliar face appeared. She couldn't understand what the message was, but when Sarek turned to face her, he seemed to have the air of a victory about him.

"The council calls me to appear first thing tomorrow."

She wanted to jump up and kiss him, but to do so would mean that she would have to admit to now knowing certain things that he had kept from her. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face in his chest, and smiled.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The council chamber was empty but for two attendants and the council head, T'Yshin, in her customary place as head of council. Alone, she seemed even more fragile than ever. She had been Sarek's ally in many battles, but once she was gone, it would seem that he would have no one but himself to fight against those that would have them shutter doors and hide from the rest of the known worlds. He brushed away the thought that day would find them all too soon, as he bowed before the Elder.

"Sarek, Xcha'al'at of the House of Seven Winds, you are called before the council, such as it is, for assignment."

There could be any number of reasons that only the council head was present, he would hope that it would be because of the short time between the summons and the appearance. It was more likely due to certain council members being unwilling to attend and have it seem that they were giving approval. Others of course, he was sure stayed away due to disagreement with the decision. No matter, the Head of Council's will stood when none was there to come forward in protest.

"I express my gratitude that the council has granted me assignment. There is no greater honor I have than to be of assistance to my people in their attempts to bring peace to other worlds, " He bowed again, this time in acknowledgement.

"This is by no means a unanimous decision by the council. Both T'Pau and Shardeen oppose your reinstatement. The balance of the council acknowledges that the pursuit of peace should outweigh their personal doubts regarding your choice of mate."

T'Yshin placed both hands on the table before her and slowly, with the aid of her Staff of State rose to her feet, circling around the council table until she stood next to Sarek.

"I assure you, honored T'Yshin that their trust will be rewarded," he responded to her with eyes downcast in respect.

"Now, since it is just you and I here, child, let us dismiss formalities for the moment," she motioned the attendants to open the heavy inlaid doors that led to the balcony over looking ShiKahr.

He raised his line of vision until her looked her squarely in the eyes. She would often dare him as a child not to be intimidated by her. Then it was a test for the future when he would be expected to hold his own with many heads of state; now it was a test of his ability to stand for himself.

"As you would have it, T'Yshin."

"Walk with me," she motioned him to follow her, outside to the Council Heights, the highest point above the city, from which all could be seen, far out into the desert beyond," You should thank your friends the Nori for this, Sarek. They would have no other. Take care that nothing untoward happens during this assignment that might reflect badly."

" I have full trust in she who is my wife, Honored One."

"For all of our sakes, we hope the human proves your trust is merited. Many of us have found these Terrans have been less than trustworthy. Many eyes will be upon you both, and your future will either rise or fall on how well Amanda Grayson comports herself."

"She is young, T'Yshin, but she has such faith and determination to succeed in all she does. She allows me to see worlds through other non-Vulcan eyes. It is as a gift to me, in allowing me to understand others."

"This was a gift you already had Sarek. Perhaps she only allows you to see it clearer."

"Perhaps."

A silence fell between them as they looked out unto the horizon preparing for what the future might hold.

"I will not be in this chair forever, child. Too soon I fear that I will move onto the halls of our ancestors. And she who would replace me is no ally of yours."

"It has been as such for many years," he softly intoned. It was no fault of his own that he and T'Pau seemed to constantly clash, each with their own separate visions of Vulcan's place in the greater scheme of things.

"Indeed, she long ago decided that your Solkar spoiled you, giving into one grandchild too often at the expense of her own child. And when Shurvil was killed leaving her without heir, that drove a deeper darkness into her mind concerning you, knowing that you would, as eldest son to her brother, be heir to her house."

"I cannot avoid what I was born to be. It would be illogical to do so."

"It would, and would it be logical for others to deny it as well," the Elder sighed, "Unfortunately, some who claim to have purged themselves of emotions instead have driven them into those deeper, more hidden places where they are allowed to fester. It is regrettable, but true none the less."

She reached up a wizened hand, and held his chin.

"You have always been a light, child, a bridge to another way of thinking. It was with purpose that your grandfather and your father exposed you to so many different worlds and cultures when you were young. Do not lose that ability by your rash actions. Now that you have chosen to tread close to sinking sands, be careful to walk lightly, lest they swallow you whole. "

There was affection in his eyes as he replied, "I will carry your words and their warning close, and will do my utmost to withhold the trust that you place in my skills."

She released him and turned to make her way back into the council chambers, "All will be waiting at Ajart. There are those there that will doubtless be pleased to see you again. Let them know their voice of reason is missed in council by T'Yshin. T'Reela has a list for you to review of volunteers who would be honored to become your staff."

She turned to Sarek one last time, "Go in peace, child."

"I walk in honor," he replied in formal greeting, bowing as she turned to leave.

"It is as it should be,"

And she was gone leaving him to his thoughts as he looked out on the city below.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Amanda had slept far too long. The light that was streaming through the shutters, as well as the empty bed beside her was sure confirmation of the fact. Yet it was still a struggle to open her eyes and pull herself out of bed. She wasn't use to being out late anymore, that was for sure. This was going to be a morning where she was thankful of the real shower Sarek had installed in the adjoining bath. She was going to need a jolt of cold water to get herself moving, followed by a dose of the hidden stash of caffeine in the form of some coffee that her grandmother had been kind enough to call favors on and have shipped in the diplomatic shuttle. It was but a part of a care package full of guilty pleasures that the Terran Embassy had delivered a few days back.

Sitting up, she sighed when she realized the spot beside her was undisturbed. Amanda wondered if Sarek had even come to bed at all last night. She had left him in his office, absorbed in research of some type or another. She didn't want to ask too many questions in case it would give away too much of what she knew. After the call, he seemed to be suddenly, well, more there then he had for some time. Her husband's mood changes were so subtle, she was still trying to get a handle on some of them, though she had no doubt he had them. It was like trying to read meaning into the angle of raised eyebrows.

Taking a deep breath, she shrugged on her light robe and padded across the tiled floor to the bath, hoping against hope that it would be good news that would come home with her husband. And that it meant a bed that was not partially empty again tonight.

The shower was just cool enough to wake her, but not so cold that it was uncomfortable. She stayed in it a little longer than usual, knowing that the garden would be grateful for any grey water sent its way.

Amanda had taken to not using the dryer function on full, but used it just enough so that she was not dripping and she could still feel the moisture on her skin and in her hair for a few fleeting minutes before the dry desert air spun it away. She slipped into a loose caftan and made her way down to the kitchen, pulling her hair back with a tie as she walked. She knew from the slight throbbing in her head that today would be a hot one, and by oversleeping she had lost the benefit of the coolest part of the day.

No sooner had she started making the coffee, then Eechiya came shambling in from the garden, nose actively testing the air. He seemed to be quite fond of the fragrance of brewing coffee, an odor that seemed to unsettle his master's stomach, hence its existence as house contraband. The fact Sarek looked upon caffeine as an unnecessary stimulant didn't help either.

"Sorry old boy, nothing for special for you this morning," she scratched his ruff briefly, then patted his broad head, laughing, "Last time I gave you a treat you barfed it up all over the floor and I still have not heard the end of _that_!"

Settling into her spot at the counter, she brought up the Terran news feed on her portable monitor. She wanted to be up on everything that was happening. The Vulcan feed would have been preferable, but the translations supplied always seemed clumsy and purposely kept vague for the general, unwashed Federation public. She always got the feeling that there was so much more in those original bands of text that Sarek would scroll through in lighting fast speed then what she was seeing in the translations.

Right now, all the interplanetary news seemed to be centered on some sort of a dispute between Nore and Chimeria. As far as she could figure out, what had once been neighboring colonies that had peacefully existed for two centuries on a single planet, had upon the discovery of a rare element, suddenly been driven into a violent and bloody dispute between the two formerly affable neighbors. As this was now threatening to interfere with the production of new type warp drive components that needed this element, it was a clash that stood front and center in the Federation news. She skimmed over the article briefly. It was always good to stay current- one never knew when this type of thing might come up in conversation when your husband was a diplomat. Then she went on to the next feed about the upcoming elections on Earth. One of her grandmother's longtime friends was up for Prime Minster of the UN, and she was valiantly trying to keep up with the election from afar. She suspected that the election would be long over and campaigns would start for the next one, before she would know any results.

Her daily regime had fallen in place rather quickly: Wake up, shower, eat, read the news feeds, spend some time in the garden. If Sarek was home, she would visit him in his library office, chat for a while, and then she would proceed to the task of slowly going through the language program for a few hours before a light mid-day meal. During the heat of the day, physical activity was minimal, even for Vulcans who tended to use it for study or meditation. With the additional strain of higher gravity, for Amanda it usually translated itself into a mid-day nap. As most business was conducted early mornings to mid-day, family and socializing was an integral part of the evening once the sun started to lie low in the sky and the temperatures once again became tolerable.

Suddenly, in the last week, that routine was being disrupted. First the party at the Earth Embassy last night, and then in two days time she had scheduled the appointment for the Medical Research Academy. Was it all for the better?

In front of her she had placed one of the small hormone pills she had been taking daily for the last week, studying it as if it could give her some insight on what she should do. Amanda had been excited for the chance to try for a child such a short time ago, but now she had started to have her doubts. Though she knew the odds were stacked against them, what if by some fluke, it happened? What if she actually did get pregnant? What if a miracle occurred and they actually found themselves parents? Part of her would be overwhelmed with the sheer joy of having created something tangible, a real living being, out of their improbable love. And if something of that love could survive them, was there any way she could deny that chance?

But another part wondered just how any child of hers would be accepted. While she would have expected discrimination on Earth, she had not thought it was an issue here on Vulcan. But now, now she was worried. She wished she could take a step back and think about what was best, but to do so would surely result in questioning by her husband, and she knew from seeing him in action that it was not something she wished to subject herself to. Maybe it was best to just leave it to the odds—they were so slim…

Hearing the door open, she tried to push such thoughts to the back of her mind. If she didn't prepare herself, he would read her like an open book. She hopped from her seat and moved to the doorway, only to see at least half a dozen Vulcans following after her husband, in what best would be considered a hurried fashion.

"Sarek? What?"

He turned back to her in for a brief moment, motioning the rest of the party to his office.

"I have been assigned to mediate the Nori-Chimeria conflict. We leave for Ajart in 5 days."

"Ajart? Nori-Chimeria?' She stood in the middle of the hallway, her mouth open.

"We will speak of this later."

And then the door closed behind him with a firm click, leaving Amanda to wonder whether she should laugh or cry- not that either would be acceptable.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Amanda had never felt this exhausted before, physically, mentally and emotionally. It was as if someone had reached inside her with a claw hammer and just pulled. While she was sure that was not what happened, the knowledge didn't seem to matter much in making it feel any better. She had been awake for the whole surreal procedure, watching from the monitors as the tube snaked its way through her, pulling from her a precious cargo that left her drained in too many ways. Now it was all in the medical researchers hands to try and work some magic while she waited for the time to come to bring them home again.

She would have had Sarek with her, but it was evidently not possible. As much as she might have wished for everything to turn out right with the council, now that it had, there was far too much to be done in too little time. And what was the importance of a safe if somewhat invasive medical procedure versus negotiating a peace between planets in conflict? She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear the answer, logical as it might seem. Her need for her husband to be there was basically only an emotional one, she kept telling herself. And somewhere in the back of her head was the reminder that it had been her idea after all to do this now. He had wanted to wait- would that she had listened to him, and she might not feel as conflicted as she did.

She sunk her head back into the recesses of the aircar, grateful that she had a pane of tinted glass between her and the driver. All she had to do is hold together for a few minutes until she got home, and she would be able to climb into bed….

Suddenly the car stopped and the door slid open. This was not home-

"Xcha'ala'at Sarek has instructed us to stop at the Terran Embassy for some paperwork Ambassador McHenry needs to give you," the young aide that had been directed to chauffeur her stood by the open door, "Do you need assistance?"

Amanda closed her eyes, and shook her head, I can do this, she told herself, but it would have been nice if someone had informed me in advance!

Sighing, she glanced at her reflection in the darkened car window. Smoothing back a few errant hairs, she gave a brief tug on her tunic to set it in place, then turned and strode into the embassy. If only she could turn around and stare back at the eyes that she felt burning at the back of her head as she made her way to the reception area.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Now here's the deal," Bart McHenry sat behind a wide swatch of desk, reaching out across it to pat her hand, "Since there is no such thing as a naturalized Vulcan citizen, there's no way to get you the diplomatic passport papers that in my humble opinion you should have."

Why does this not surprise me, and why in the world would I have thought my husband might have told me this himself? She thought as she sighed and nodded, not wanting to acknowledge her ignorance in the matter.

"What we have figured out was a way to get you a Terran diplomatic passport, just in case you run into any problems. It wouldn't be good for the Vulcan Ambassador's wife to be detained in customs on a technicality would it?"

"Most certainly not," she put a smile on her face, but it would serve the Vulcan Ambassador right if she was!

"What I had to do is make you an employee here at the Embassy. All you need to do is write me a report once a month to rationalize me having you on the staff. It can be about anything- the number of rocks in your garden, how hot it was last week, or the comic antics of that bear that Sarek insists upon calling his pet. Just make sure you run it by him first. I know from experience that offense can be taken at the most innocent of phrases."

"I'm sure I can do that, Amb- Bart," she hastily corrected herself, thinking of all the things she wished she could write about at this moment in time, like 1001 reasons not to marry a Vulcan...

"And now here's your passport, along with the little 'Welcome to Vulcan' presentation we give to all new employees. Maybe it will give you a laugh or two - you look like you may need it," he took a long look at her as he handed her the disc and new passport.

"You should only know," She tried her best to smile back at him, felt bad at not being at her best. He was being so kind to her, and here she was sitting like an ungrateful lump, "Thanks so much for your help, Bart."

"Are you sure you're okay? You look beat? And so quiet."

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just been a long few days of language and etiquette lessons, along with a husband who is mostly MIA."

"Well, they're like that when it gets down to business, so you'd better get used to it. It's all placid and contemplative when nothing is happening, but once they have a project or goal, they narrow into it like a precision drill. And there's no slowing down to smell the roses."

"Roses!" She had not remembered with so much going on, "Oh, please tell Lenna to hold off on the roses she was sending me to transplant. I don't have a clue when we will be back, and there'll be no one to watch over them."

"I'll let her know. Have a safe trip. I understand Ajart is beautiful, all sky and sea. Make sure you are given time to enjoy it."

"After these last few days, I will make time," she mustered up a smile and stood to leave.

"That's more like it! Don't let them get to you- that's the trick."

He got up from his desk to escort her out. Instinctively, she turned and gave him a brief hug, leaving the office a little more upbeat than when she entered it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The house was silent when she finally made it home. As she slipped off her sandals in the traditional spot by the door, she sighed seeing it was empty of any other footwear, a sure sign she was on her own. Glancing down the hallway, the open door gave clear view of a still empty office. In the hallway sat the packed bags, ready for tomorrow's journey. Dropping her carry-bag to the side, she slipped the disc that Bart had given her into the pocket of one of her cases, pretty sure she was going to need something to laugh at- and soon.

Feeling tired and defeated, she wandered into the kitchen. She let out a low whistle to call Eechiya, and even started to put the bowl out for the sehlat, before reminding herself that he had already been sent off to board with relatives while they were off world. Amanda was now truly more alone in the house than she had ever been before. She picked up a piece of n'traya fruit, peeling the thick hide like skin to reveal the moist fruit below, as she carried it with her up to the bedroom. A few bites were all she needed, and after a quick trip to wash the stickiness from her fingers and brush her teeth. Not bothering to undress, she curled up on the bed and quickly and within a few seconds was fast asleep.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The only light in the darkened bedroom was the ambient light that came from the sculpture fountain in one of the corners of the room, more than sufficient for his eyesight. Entering the room as quietly as possible, Sarek moved to the wardrobe. He shrugged off the heavy ceremonial clothes, which he had worn for far too many hours today, while making the last of the formal arrangements before tomorrow's journey. Throwing on a light robe against the night chill, he moved to the bed, taking a few moments to stand next to where his wife's small form still dressed lay curled up on the bed. Tenderly, he covered her with one of the blankets that lay at the foot of the bed. He then let his fingers brush softly against her brow. For the last few days, he had left before she had awakened in the morning, and then returned to find her asleep. It was regrettable, but necessary. There was a work to perform and it must take precedence over his personal desires.

Easing himself onto the edge of the bed, Sarek allowed himself the luxury of letting his hand run along the slight curve of her spine, before resting it upon her hip.

What have I done to deserve this miracle I call wife?

He heard her stirring, a muffled sniffle that did could not past his acute hearing without detection.

"Amanda?"

His wife shook her head, keeping her face turned away from him. Reaching over, he took her chin tenderly in his hands and turned her so that he could see her clearly.

"Have I done something to cause you distress?"

"It's just that it would have been nice to have you with me this morning for the procedure. It was important to me."

Trying to compose herself, she squeezed her eyes tight for brief seconds, before opening them to look at him. He started to speak and she placed her fingers on his lips stilling him.

"I know, I really do understand things intellectually, but emotionally—" Her eyes sparkled with tears in the dim light.

He gently moved her hand, feeling a knife twist somewhere deep within, a fear he could not give words to.

"Emotionally, I do not know that I can be the husband that you need-"

"No, no, you are the only husband I need. It's just that sometimes I need something that has no logic behind it for you to understand. You just need to remember that it's hard for me sometimes- that I can't be a Vulcan, react like a Vulcan, anymore than I would have you be human."

"And I would have you be no other thing other than that which you are."

"I know that, I do. But I've missed you the last few days," she paused as she held back another sniffle, "I'm sorry, it's just these damn hormones that they've me on for the last week. And it still hurts a bit from the procedure. I don't think they realized how sensitive humans are to pain."

"You are in distress? You should always tell me this, I can assist you."

If physical pain was part her discomfort, this he could understand and ease. Sarek tugged at her rumpled tunic and she lifted up from the bed as he pulled if off and tossed it aside.

He motioned for Amanda to roll over, she started to protest, but he gave her side a firm tap to move her onto stomach, where he could gently work on pressure points, channeling her energy where it was needed most, relieving her any of the remaining pain. It only took a few minutes until he could feel her body go limp and as she let go of the stress and pain of the day.

When he had finished, his wife turned and looked at him, eyes filled with seeming astonishment, "Why didn't you ever tell me you could do such magic?"

"You never asked. Nor did you ever admit to your husband that you were in distress."

"I'll be sure to remember that next time."

"Indeed."

"Indeed," Amanda parroted the reply as she reached out to ruffle the curls across the crown of his head. Then tucking her arms beneath the sides of his robe, wrapping her arms around his broad chest, she pulled him close.

"I love you, no matter what. No matter how cross or hurt or upset or angry I may be at you. I love you, Sarek of Vulcan. You remember that. Always."

And Sarek in turn opened his mind and his heart as well to her, responding in kind. It was only logical…


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Amanda settled into her seat in the shuttle, turning the disc that Bart had given her over in her hand. Having rescued it from her luggage at the last minute, she opened the case to find a note from the Earth Ambassador:

_Couldn't get much for you on short notice about Ajart. What my staff found reads more like a travelogue, and a damn subjective one at that. Probably something given to an idealistic intern as busy work at some point. But the images are pretty. Anything else they found was basically statistics and I'm sure that if you're interested in those, you can just drop a coin in the nearest Vulcan, and they will oblige with all the numbers you need._

_Have a safe trip, _

_Bart_

She would certainly need to thank Bart for being so thoughtful when they returned to Vulcan. Inserting the disc, she let her finger wander above the screen for a moment, pondering whether to select "Ajart" or "Welcome to Vulcan". The latter was tempting but the former made more sense right now. She tapped on the link and the text started to appear, sprinkled with images of her destination…

More than a thousand years ago, the Ajarti knew that their race was dying. They had spent much of their long existence in the pursuit of peace among the sentient beings scattered about their arm of the galaxy. The stabilization of relationships among those sentient beings and the harmony that is its result became the very theme of their existence. When they realized their time was numbered, they offered up their home world, filled with the peace of a million years, as a neutral ground for any who sought to take up their cause. They presented it as a base to those who pursue resolutions for the conflicts that all too often flare between countries, worlds, or species, in hope that the work done there would further their legacy long after the last Ajarti had passed on over the Never Ending Sea, to the Realm of the Dead…

Before her floated a globe of blue sprinkled with clouds and a single large continent, an otherworldly version of Pangaea. She felt a pang of homesickness for Earth.

…_Several worlds have taken the Ajarti up on their offer, creating permanent residences in the ancient city of Ti-eer, on the edge of the fabled sea. The famed Eiar Institute is housed there, dedicated exclusively to the advancement of peace- a think tank composed of some of the most renowned diplomats and statesbeings in the known universe. Peacemaking as a task sometimes seems impossible, but the institute's members believe the triumph lies in the ongoing attempt and the refusal to lose faith…_

The Institute's image spun up from the screen before her, like some great mythical seat of learning. The imposing structure was balanced by a great length of steps that were guarded on either side by fantastical winged creatures.

…_Apart from Ti-eer, only one other inhabited city remains, Aj-oon, where most of the last Ajarti live counting the number of their remaining days, an inland city that few non-Ajarti have ever seen, save for the ever-present Bedeles. This race of broad little beings have been in service to the Ajarti for time beyond memory. They are not native, but instead migratory workers, whose positions are passed down generation-to-generation, living a set number of years on Ajart, accumulating enough funds to retire on before passing their position on to the next generation. The Bedeles keep the nuts and bolts of Ajart running, taking care of the practical so that others can extend their energy in more idealistic pursuits._

_Ti-eer is now largely taken over by various off-world species. A compact city set on the edge of the turquoise sea with gleaming marble palaces and towers, halls and venues, rich with fountains and gardens. Its climate is warm, but not humid, with breezes that continuously stir the air. Its vegetation is as diverse as the species that reside within its walls, filled with color, sound, and fragrance… _

Once while in London several years earlier, Amanda had seen an exhibit of Alma-Tadema paintings from the late 19th Century, and the images before her now seemed to echo those paintings of an idyllically classical life. All sea and sky and sun-washed marble, splashed with bright colored flowers. Ajart looked like paradise after months of red rocks and sand.

…_No weapons are permitted; loud voices are frowned upon. Millenniums have passed since any type of violence has been seen in its streets. There is a strong presence of the arts in the city, and many of the most well known creative names in the galaxy are represented there. The Ajarti believe that a harmonious atmosphere is important, as is the need to relax, to relieve the pressures that sometimes come with negotiations. In Ti-eer, there is always music in the distance, beauty just around the corner. _

_The Vulcan presence is strong, as it has been for hundreds of years. The Aian'a'an, the title given to the head of the Eiar Institute, has been granted to a number of Vulcans for the last hundred or so years, and many of the buildings have permanent quarters dedicated to their fluctuating staff. There are also numerous residences for some of the better-known diplomats that use the city as a neutral ground for negotiations among opposing factions. The few remaining Ajarti feel that perhaps the Vulcans are a little too inflexible at times, not taking time to enjoy the pleasures of tranquility. There is a time and place for seriousness and hard work, and a time and a place for laughter and enjoyment. But never the less, the Ajarti feel the Vulcans are a good fit, if not a perfect one. They will tell you, what in life has ever been perfect? _

She sighed wistfully at the holos that floated before her, thinking how romantic it all looked, and wondering how little of that romance she would actually experience. Ejecting the disc, she slid in one of the ever-present language tapes and promptly fell asleep.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the trip was passed it in somewhat of a fog, which was just as well. Amanda's prior experience with space travel had been limited to her trip to Vulcan, and in much larger vehicles. The idea of spending several hours in space in a twelve-passenger shuttle was well, more than a little unnerving, so it was for the better that she find something to keep her mind off of it, even if it was sleep.

She had quickly gotten used to the constant low hum of the ships engines, and over the hours the slight vibration had become a type of white motion. Settling in the rear of the cabin where the lights had been left low, the only other sounds were those of soft, half heard voices that marked the conversations between Sarek and his staff. Suddenly, a gentle touch on her shoulder, stirred her from a pleasant dream.

"We will land in a few moments, my wife, you will need to awaken."

" I was having the nicest dream," she let a sly smile creep over her face as she looked up at him from the corners of her half-opened eyes. The image of marble palaces, deserted but for the two of them lingered in her mind.

"I am sure you were," her husband commented, taking note of the smile on her face.

Amanda took his hand for a brief moment, "I'll be okay, just give me a minute or two."

She watched Sarek as he made his way to his seat, still smiling contentedly until a sudden jolt brought her attention back to the present and the fact that apparently they were landing.

Left to gather up her tapes and stow them back into her carry-bag, she ended up being the last one to exit, making her way through a now fully dimmed cabin. Still within the shade of the shuttle door, Amanda started step down, the bright sunlight just beyond. A few paces ahead Sarek turned to her-

"Be careful of the steps."

She looked up at her husband and almost lost her footing, holding back an instinctive gasp- there seemed to be something terribly wrong with his eyes as they held hers for a moment. He bent, reaching over, grabbing her elbow to steady her. When he looked back up, his eyes were normal.

Had she just imagined what she had seen? It was almost as if a smoke-filled shadow had passed over them. She wanted to ask, but it was not the time or place as the reception party was clearly waiting for them across the landing pad.

"Xcha'al'at Sarek, we come to serve," The consulate head, the Dor, a tall, almost skeletal woman named P'Adar, came forward with the formal welcome.

After days of listening to the programs, Amanda was starting to pick up bits and pieces of words, almost full sentences at times, but these formalized introductions and responses she had memorized by rote as whole phrases. She still struggled with some of the pronunciations, but there were several days before any real ceremonial responses would be required of her.

"Your service honors us, Dor P'Adar. My aides, Sirdan, T'Auren, Hardeal, R'zaren, and she who is my wife, Cha'al Amanda."

"Most honored ones, we welcome you to Ajart," P'Adar motioned for one of her staff to come forward with the customary pitcher of water and filled one glass at a time, handing them off to the party in order of rank.

"May your time among us be a fruitful one," the saturnine woman, intoned. At that point the formal greetings were over- at least for Amanda today.

"My wife," Sarek turned to her, "There are some matters the Dor P'Adar and I need to discuss. She will have one of her staff take you to the residence at this time. I will be joining you shortly."

He bowed to her and she did the same to him in turn. She watched her husband retreat with the rest of the party, leaving her alone on the pad- or so she thought.

"It is but a short distance to the diplomatic residences, Honored Lady, " a short, round little figure seemed to suddenly appear from the shadows, "I believe that your belongings have already been sent ahead and should be there by the time we arrive."

She had met her first Bedele, which seemed to her a cross between a Munchkin and a four-armed ferret. Dressed in what looked like embassy livery, it was covered in nutmeg-colored fur but for the cream blaze that was drawn across its eyes like a mask accentuating its large round black eyes. And it spoke decent English, one small thing to be thankful for as she followed it across the square.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sarek had been to Ajart many times as a child in the company of both his father and grandfather. The permanent apartment, which had been assigned to their family for many years, held fond memories for him, situated as it was above the cliffs of the city, with nothing before it but the sea below and the sky above. It had been his introduction to the worlds beyond Vulcan, his first off-world destination. He found a bit of pleasure in the fact that it would be the first one he would be introducing his young wife to.

By instinct, he found himself bounding the broad main stairway, up to the highest floor, one of the ever-present residence Bedeles struggling behind him, trying valiantly to keep up with its charge.

"Honored One, I beg forgiveness, Honored One, but—"

"But?" He stopped for a moment at the top of the stair waiting for a response, but the short-legged being struggled to catch its breath, and Sarek was impatient to get on with it.

He sighed for a moment then turned toward the large double doors and speaking his name, the doors swung open in welcome.

"Amanda?"

Pacing across the room, he threw open the large doors that opened up to a balcony that spanned the length of the apartment, and when he verified it was empty, he then opened the doors to opposing bedrooms. No wife, nor indeed any luggage in sight. The apartment certainly seemed to be empty. Finally the breathless Bedele made its way into the room.

"Honored One, the residence manager felt that you would be more comfortable on the lower level rooms—"

"I would not. Unless the Aian'a'an has decided to vacate his permanent residence on the Institute's grounds, and we both know this is not so, there should be no reason why we should be housed outside of my family's apartments."

"Please Honored One, I am only doing the honored manager's bidding."

"Show me these 'more comfortable arrangements', then, " he had his suspicions as they made their way down to one of the lower levels.

"This, Honored One, is the room that was designated for your use."

It had a serviceable living area, but as he paced the room, he realized it contained a single bedroom, and within it a single set of luggage.

"And my wife, where would she be?"

"The honored manager felt she would be more comfortable in one of the rooms we have set aside for non-Vulcan guests----"

"I see. Show me."

"Certainly, Honored One."

The short-legged Bedele bustled along the corridors, Sarek following impatiently as they left the main portion of the building and entered the adjoining annex. By the time they reached the rooms in question, he was barely containing his anger as it rolled just beneath the surface. It was a weakness that he sought too hard to control, and he doubtless would require some time in meditation before this was all over.

Amanda opened the door of the small hotel-like room. It was hardly the quality of accommodations that an ambassador's wife required.

"Sarek—"

"Have the staff bring both mine and my wife's bags to the proper apartment."

"But Honored One---"

He stared down at the little being, "You question me?"

"No, Honored One, no. But the honored manager---"

"Will need to answer to me for these actions. She may take this up with me should she have any questions or concerns. I do not take lightly to these little games," he then turned on his heel to face Amanda.

"My wife, attend."

She hurriedly grabbed one of her bags and reached for another.

"Leave it. They will carry it up to the rooms."

"Can I at least take my carry-bag?"

A slight scowl passed over his face, but she grabbed her bag anyway and raced to follow after his long legs as they made their way back to the main building.

"Sarek, I can't keep up with you. Please slow down."

" I beg forgiveness, my wife, here-" he reached out to take the carry-bag off her hands. It was heavy and his eyes widened at its weight, "What-?"

"Important things. Some books, my personal viewer, toiletries, makeup - things I wouldn't want to be without if I lost my luggage, like my toothbrush and a change of underwear…"

"You will not lose your luggage."

"How do you know? What if they take it to the wrong room?"

"They have already taken it to the wrong room. They would not dare to do so again."

"Are they afraid of what you'll do to them if they did?"

The furrow beneath his brows deepened, and his mouth set in a tight line as he glanced at her.

"Don't make faces at me, I'm certainly not afraid of you."

They reached the suite doors to find several of the Bedeles scurrying out, having delivered Sarek's bags. Seeing him they quickly bowed before making a hasty escape.

"They are afraid of you, aren't they?" She laughed.

He turned to look at curiously her for a long moment, suddenly realizing that she had, at some point in the last few moments, diffused his anger. He did not understand quite how it had happened, but it had certainly worked more efficiently and pleasantly than tryads of mediation.

A second group arrived with Amanda's luggage, placing them in the far bedroom, while she followed behind. Then once the delivery was complete, after the ever-present obsequious bows, the Bedeles made their way out the door. Sarek then made sure was firmly closed against any further intrusion.

"Are they gone?" she peered back into the main room

"Yes."

"They really felt I should be impressed by the bathroom in that other room I was in, especially the toilet!" she laughed, "I kept asking where you were and they kept on insisting that I would enjoy that bath far more than your company! But we are together now and that's all that matters,"

She moved toward one set of the large open doors that framed the ornately carven central fireplace, and let out a gasp

"Sarek, this is wonderful!" She went straight to the edge of the balcony, thrusting her upper body out over the edge, "Smell that clean sea air!"

She laughed, and turned toward him as he made his way out into the open, "And the view! It reminds me of those days we spent in the Caribbean…"

She seemed to gaze off beyond him, a dreamy look in her eyes as memory took hold.

"Indeed."

She turned and looked back at him, "There! That got a smile out of you!"

"I do not smile."

"Of course you do. Who do you think you are talking to? Just turn this up a little…" she allowed her fingers to frame the corners of his mouth, turning them up the tiniest bit.

He pulled back from her ministrations, and looked her in the eyes; "You are certainly in a good mood this evening, my wife."

"Mmmm. Either I am giddy from the sea air or maybe I am just happy that I am actually awake and spending a little time alone with my husband-unlike the last few days."

She rested her head against his chest, looking out over the sea, content for the moment as he rested his hands on her slender hips. There were moments in life she would like to freeze and hold forever such as this.

"If you would give a moment to get changed from these traveling clothes, we should go out for our meal. I do not believe either of us has eaten much all day. Preparations will not start in earnest until tomorrow, so I would have some personal time to share this evening…"

"Are you asking me for a date?" She playfully tugged on the pleats of his tunic.

"A date?"

"For dinner?" she tilted her head, to look up at him, biting her lip thoughtfully, as if she were considering the prospect.

"I suppose that I am," he countered, catching those same eyes with his.

"And afterward?"

He pulled back from her a bit, raising his brows and blinked.

She stood on her toes and planted a kiss upon his nose, laughing and then spun away back inside, "I just hope you don't expect me to sleep in that other bedroom alone!"

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_If you are interested in having this story continue as a WIP, please review. At this point I am trying to decide whether to continue posting as a WIP or to stop and wait until the story is finished to start posting again. Since the last chapter got a lone review, the Muse seems to be fading and I am trying my best to convince her to keep working. _

_Thanks,_

_Mary _**  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

There had been a single time on Earth that they had ventured out together, nothing more than an innocent day at a museum. They could not at anytime have ventured nearer to one another than a foot or two, except for one brief moment when she touched his arm to draw his attention to a particular painting, and yet, the next day a video of that exact moment had appeared in the gossip vids. And that had been the end of anytime spent in public together on Earth. On Vulcan, well, she had not yet really learned to relax, not yet gotten to the point where she could dismiss the idea that somewhere there were eyes aimed at her like daggers. She hoped one day soon that she would be accepted, or at the very least ignored, but until then, it had seemed best that they lie low.

So tonight, their first night on Ajart, had been a real treat, the chance to just be with her husband in public, enjoying a meal. And now, here they were just walking along the beach- or at least she was on the beach- he was a few steps away on a paved walkway.

She wore a light, casual summer dress she had brought from Earth, having instinctively thrown into her bags at the last moment. It has seemed somehow just right for this last evening before she had to start dressing the Ambassador's wife. As she walked along the surf's edge, she was thankful for those instincts that allowed her the luxury of feeling the water crest and fall against her calves and the crush of fine white sand between her toes. Tonight it was just the two of them, where she didn't need to put on any masks for fear of offending anyone.

A flash off to her left, followed quickly by another startled her for a brief moment before she realized that it was a thunderstorm far up the coast. She stood transfixed for a moment, absorbed in the distant beauty of the storm, to far away for even a dim peel of thunder to reach her ears.

"It was always a favored evening event when I came here as a child- to watch those storms light the coast at the close of day," Sarek's voice was soft and seemed to echo the velvet darkness of the night.

"No matter where you go, there is always something new and wonderful to see, isn't there?"

"Indeed."

And perhaps it was their mutual ability to find beauty in these smallest of things, that drew them together, like the light of fireflies or a single flower blooming in the Sas-a-shar. Above all it was the ability to see and treasure the differences in themselves that brought them close, and hopefully would always keep them that way.

The tide had started to rise, and she pulled herself up onto the path's edge to sit, letting her feet dangle into the water. Gently she tugged on her husband's hand, urging him down next to her. He settled in next to her, cross-legged on the path.

"Your eyes?" She whispered, as if it were a secret to be disclosed, though there was no one else to hear.

He raised his brows in question, for a brief second, his eyes now clear and light.

"Today, after we landed, I imagined that they had grown darker—"

"Ah. The light was too bright after the shuttle and they needed a moment to adjust. We have a nicatating membrane that protects the eyes."

"Like built-in sunglasses?"

He tilted his head in thought, "I suppose that might be a valid analogy."

A million questions she wanted to ask, primarily when she was going to find out about things in advance about Vulcans in general and her husband in particular before they actually happened.

"Is there anything else I might need to know about you for the future?" she laughed.

"Perhaps, but only time will show what questions will need to be asked and answered."

His answer was certainly an enigmatic one, and nothing further seemed to be in the offering. They sat in silence for a while, until she finally took a deep breath and forged forward.

"Why do they hate me so? "

"Hate is a very strong word, Amanda. Who do you believe this of?"

"It's just, it's like everywhere I go I feel this hostility toward me. I haven't done anything to offend them- at least not that I know of. I try to avoid any outward displays of emotion; I work hard to maintain the shielding you've been teaching me. But still-"

"Too many of my people are afraid of change, though they will not admit it. They hide behind walls of tradition. Most of them never consider the idea of even traveling off world. Rarely do they see beyond the path set by our ancestors, even more rare do they understand straying from it. For Tradition can be a gift, a blessing, a hindrance, and a crutch all at the same time. I regret if the inability of others to see past a narrow path has caused you pain, I would not have it be so,"

"I knew it would be hard, but we both promised one another that we would not change who and what we are, nor would we ever require it of one another. I'll never allow myself to be any less human than I am at this moment, nor would I ever expect you to be any less Vulcan. And while I expected that not everyone would be happy when I arrived on their doorstep, I certainly did not expect the Council to censure you for marrying me!"

"Who spoke to you of this?" His reply was sharp, as if he was debating another peer, not speaking to his wife, and she flinched a little at first, before springing back, refusing to be intimidated by his tone.

"It should have been you! Instead, I had to over hear it at the McHenry's dinner!"

"This explains much then," he softly intoned, as if he had reached a sudden understanding of some of her moods in the last few days, "There was no reason to tell you, there was nothing you could have done."

"Let me decide that. It would have been nice to know what was going on in my husband's life. If nothing else to offer him support."

Her last words lay between them for a long space of time, weighing the space between them until he finally spoke.

"I would protect my wife from anything that would cause her undue distress."

"I won't break, Sarek, I promise you I won't break."

She rested her head upon his shoulder, squeezing his arm tightly.

"Come," he stood offering her his hand," I wish to show you something."

She took his hand as he led her down past the end of the paved path onto the soft sand. They walked for several minutes passing the city limits, the light from the occupied areas fading more with each step. Finally, they turned a slight bend and she saw something shimmering in the distance. As they got closer, she realized that it was a statue, out here on the beach, a lone beacon on a solitary watch.

It was an Ajarti, long limbed and slender, with two of its eyes closed, but the third eye open wide, staring out to the stars beyond. It was created of a luminous stone that resembled an opal, white yet dancing with soft colors that radiated from its core.

"It's beautiful!'

"It is An Su In, an Ajarti noble from many millenniums ago. He fell in love with one of the families Bedele retainers, named Esahrub-"

"It's hard to think of anyone falling in love with one of those strange little beings."

"Some may say the same of us, my wife."

Sheepishly, she had to agree with him. Especially seeing how some Vulcans seemed to view her.

"And when Esahrub's time on Ajart came to an end, like all Bedeles she left him. For they are a creatures of duty and loyalty to family above all. And if she had not returned, those in line to replace her in An Su In's household would have no lot to exist."

"There was no way for her to stay?

"Once you become more acquainted with them, you will understand the Bedele better. They have what you might call a 'hive' mentality. They are creatures that have no choice but to follow the path laid out for them countless generations before.

A distant sadness crept into his eyes, dark and sparked with green, reflecting the light of the stone statue. He wondered how much of that same need not to vary from the path, the blind devotion to tradition might also be said of his people.

"The Ajarti told their children that An Su In brought himself to this beach, under the stars, to sit and wait for Esahrub's return. And here he remained until his sorrow overcame him, and his tears filled his being, turning him to stone."

"Such a beautiful piece of art with such a sad story."

She moved to run her hand along the smooth stone, tracing the open eye as if to wipe it of any remaining tears.

"I'm sorry your love could not find it within her to stay with you," Amanda whispered.

And if in response, a breeze picked up, whipping her skirt about her bare legs and she shivered slightly. Turning away from the statue, she gazed over at her husband, standing straight and tall against the star splattered sky, seemingly lost in thought.

She dropped down to the soft sand beside his feet. Pulling her knees tightly up to her chest, she rested her chin upon them, honoring the silence of the moment.

"We, too, have a tale somewhat similar, of Skilur and Naveen."

"The stars of Naveen…"

He looked down at her, before dropping down in place next to her, draping the end of the light cloak he was wearing across her shoulders, "You know of this?"

"Only that Bart knew it was the name of the stone in the necklace you gave me. But he didn't know the story."

He was quiet for the space of several moments as she waited, resting her head against his broad shoulders, listening to the quiet movement of his breath.

"Many hundreds of your years ago, when my people first ventured out among the stars into space, there was a High House heir who fell in love with a d'jambi-"

"A d'jambi?"

"A word I am not truly comfortable with, but is needed to properly understand the story. I suppose you would say a common person. A woman from a family of traders, a woman named Naveen."

"I think I can find something common with her."

"Of course, his family did not approve of this match. Tradition has it that those of high blood only marry their peers."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"They sought to arrange a marriage for Skilur with a member of another house, of comparable social standing. They had only to wait until his years were right. But in the meantime making sure that word got to Naveen that he was to be promised elsewhere when his time came. Until then, the two of them could only count the years, so Naveen made a decision while there was still time. If she were to make something of herself in those intervening years, she might still have a chance to secure Skilur . So she shipped off with a mining crew, before no chance was left to them."

Amanda closed her eyes caught up in the magical timbre of his words. In another time and place, he could have made a living weaving tales with that unique and gifted voice.

"And when she returned within the year, she brought with her a handful of stones- jewels that were found to have a psionic quality to them, that when attuned, made such a link between the activator and the stone, that it could serve as a beacon between the two. This was indeed a most fortunate discovery, and perhaps she should have been satisfied. But Naveen wanted to cement her position, that no one would doubt her suitability. Secure in the thought that there was still time enough before Skilur's cycle came into fruition, she decided to make another trip, knowing that, should she return with a cargo of such stones, they could not help but secure her space in society and endear her to the High Households, who alone had the powers to attune the stones."

"Skilur did not want her to go- it was far too dangerous back then, and he would rather live without her than have her be lost forever. But she would have no other way. For when she returned, she would be in a position to walk proudly among the High Houses, a self-made woman. Before she left, he took the greatest of the stones, attuned it and broke it in two, taking half for himself and returning the other half to Naveen."

Sarek picked up a handful of sand, and let it slide though his fingers, scattering in the breeze. Then he continued, "Naveen did not account that in their desire to keep their find secret and great treasures safe, the miners had made only the sketchiest of notes regarding the location of their find. Whether they ever found the planet again, or whether something evil befell them along the way, Naveen never returned. The lone stones that made that first journey to Vulcan are said to contain the star map to their home deep within their depths, the star maps of an ill-fated journey, the Stars of Naveen."

"And what happened to Skilur?"

"His time came and he had no choice but to marry. And the stone has been passed from father to son for a millennium, waiting for Naveen to return and reclaim it."

"That's a very romantic story, Sarek. Romantic and tragic."

"Hmm, It is a very traditional folk tale from a time before Surak. Parents tell it to children in a way that impresses them with the foolishness of such things."

"Did you think it was foolish?"

"Once, perhaps I did, but now I think I understand them,"

There was a hint of wistfulness to his voice. He looked at her for a long moment, brushing an errant strand of hair from her face, before standing.

"But these are sad stories of unfulfilled affections. We have our own story, our own future to make. And it will come to no such end. And perhaps centuries from now some couple will stroll upon this same beach telling a tale of Xcha'ala'at Sarek and Amanda Grayson, no?"

"I'd like that. A happy ending to offset the sad."

"Tomorrow will be the first of many long days. It is best that we start back," the Vulcan Ambassador was now speaking and the storyteller was locked back away.

"Unfortunately," she softly sighed,

And in a voice almost too low to be heard by human ears, her husband added, "Indeed."

She stood up, brushing the sand from her skirt and took his offered hand. And together they walked until the reached the dimly lit streets of a sleepy city. He stopped just shy of the lights, and giving her hand a brief squeeze, he released it. She in turn smiled up at him, with the knowledge that although she no longer had his hand, she would always hold his heart.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Thanks to all of you for the support over the last week or so. It took that bit of coaxing, but things seem to be moving along once again. Work has been a little crazy -- I need to go into the office for a few days to test a new program, a real sacrifice for someone who works virtually-- so my timing may be off for a while, but I'll be posting as soon as I get the chapters completed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

The Aian'a'an stood on the high balcony that overlooked the library floor, taking in every occupant, observing every movement. At one hundred ninety-seven, he was still young enough to find the goings on below to be of interest. His companion, one of the few Ajarti that still remained in the city, Jey Du Hey, was a longtime consultant to the institute as well as a friend for well over one-hundred years. Together they moved closer to the gallery balcony's edge, as one of the attendant aides pointed out a small figure below, who was intently concentrating on the screen in front of her.

"That is the Cha'ala?"

"We so are advised, Aian'a'an," The young Luritian aide replied, as it stepped back into the shadows.

"She is so young, Jey Du, " the Aian'a'an, the Institute's Vulcan Director, turned to his companion, letting loose a sigh so slight that only the Ajarti's delicate hearing, almost as astute as his own, could hear it.

"Perhaps, but these things know no rules. Nor are Vulcans immune to them, despite their protestations it would seem," Though the elder of the two, the Ajarti appeared almost childlike, barely coming up to her companion's chin. She was slender and delicate, like a wisp of smoke against the tall, broad shouldered Vulcan.

He gave his companion a sardonic glance, and she smiled back at him, letting out the slow whistle that substituted for a laugh. The Vulcan Elder motioned to the aide to come forward again.

"Aian'a'an?"

"See to it that the Cha'ala is given whatever assistance she requires. I have heard of the affair at the residence and will not tolerate any actions against her here."

"It will be as you wish, Aian'a'an." The Luritian quickly moved to make his way down to the library floor.

"Let this be a lesson, Jey Du, in indulging one's young."

"There was no indulgence here, only the talent and training for a different type of path."

"Which Sarek certainly appears to have found for himself with this choice."

Jey Du Hey closed all but her third eye to look out on the scene below. When it was used as the lone organ of sight, it was attuned to reading what could not be seen with ordinary vision. She held for a moment before closing it in favor of the pair of large violet orbs set below, "We do not believe you have any reason to worry, Aian'a'an. Our sense is that this decision was the correct one. And we have every reason to trust our instincts."

"I would have your faith in this matter, but logic tells me otherwise."

"Perhaps it is time to put logic aside, and look to other sources of knowledge, old friend. Too many of your people make a grave mistake in ruling out matters of emotion; it guides a great multitude of things in this universe of ours. What is needed is for your people is to find a balance between the two, logic and emotion, ruling out neither in favor of the other. Perhaps this is the lesson that these two are fated to give."

"I have striven most of my life to recognize and understand our differences-to accept all in a true vision of IDIC and to pass that on. Yet now I wonder if the teaching of that idea is something I will regret," a shadow of doubt had crept into the edges of the Director's voice, perceptible only to those who knew him well.

"Have trust in your decisions regarding Sarek. Even as a child, he had a spark to him, a different way of looking at things. Do not regret what that spark has nurtured."

They watched below as the aide made its way over to the young Terran girl, and the smile that lit up her face at the offered assistance.

"We think we will introduce ourself to the Cha'ala. She seems to be a delightful creature."

The Ajarti gracefully took leave of the Vulcan and made her way to the floor below, leaving the Aian'a'an to ponder on past decisions and their implications.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Nothing Vulcan ever seemed simple. And if there ever had been anything, well, they worked damn hard to complicate it.

Amanda sat at one of the workstations in the library, trying to understand in layman's terms the history and significance behind tomorrow's ceremony. It seemed that only Sarek had the patience to explain it to her, but he was the one person with the least amount of time to do so. She had been given perfunctory explanations, but she wanted to know more. If Vulcan was to be her new home, she wanted to know all she could about it, the whats, the wheres, the whens, and most especially the whys of her husband's culture.

A movement caught the corner of her eye to the Luritian now standing beside her, eyes like great dark orbs, waving on their stalks, patiently waiting for her attention. She smiled thinking that if he turned sideways, he might just disappear but for those eyes.

"The Aian'a'an has asked if you are in need of any assistance,"

"This seems like a great system the library has, but I just can't figure out how to set the automatic translations…"

The aide bent and touched a button on the screen with a long and impossibly jointed appendage and motioned toward it, "Speak what you need."

"Information on the Ramar'alifam ceremony," she spoke with certainty.

"Searching… No such ceremony exists in our databank."

"Damn", she whispered under her breath, and then tried it again.

"Ramar'alafam-"

Another longer pause before the system responded.

"Searching… no such word –"

"Ramahr'alia'fa'am," A soft voice like sparkling bells prompted the computer,

"Compiling and translating data."

Her screen filled with links

"Thank you," Amanda laughed and turned, startled to view her savior, "You're a Ajarti? I had not expected, I mean, I am honored"

The slender, ethereal figure seemed to float next to her, alabaster skin translucent, with traces of blue and violet just beneath the surface. Amanda marveled how closely the Ajarti's coloring actually resembled the opalescent statue of An Su In.

"One might say no more surprising than a human Cha'ala. A few of us like to, how do you humans put it- keep our fingers in the pot?"

"I'm sorry. Here you are being so helpful and I'm being so rude. I'm Amanda Grayson," She tentatively reached out her hand and the one that accepted it was fine boned and flexible, but with some cool inner strength.

"Jey Du Hey. It is nothing. We welcome you to our world Amanda Grayson, with your clear eyes of youth."

She was not sure how to respond, but made her best effort, "Thank you. You have such an incredibly beautiful city. And the ocean! The ocean is one thing I really miss on Vulcan."

"If the truth were to be told, it is part of why we stay in Anjon. It is precious to us, and we would not want to be missing it as well," The eyes that looked back at Amanda seemed ancient and filled with an unknown longing for one brief moment before coming back to the present, " So you are going to be part of the Ramahr'alia'fa'am, tomorrow. We have never been a participant, only a spectator. It is a fascinating ceremony, stemming from Surak's negotiations among the remaining opposing tribes, offering them his assistance as a mediator in achieving peace for all Vulcan."

"They do seem to like their ceremonies," Amanda sighed,

"They do. We Ajarti believe that they use it as a means to redirect their energies. Immersing certain parts of their life in ritual and ceremony serve to avoid the emotional impact."

"I hadn't thought about it like that, but then, I haven't really been involved in any ceremonies up until now. I just hope I can do okay."

"We are sure you will do fine. Sarek obviously has great faith in you, and we have great faith in Sarek's judgment."

"Do you know my husband?"

"For many, many years, since he was quite young."

"What was he like? I find it hard to think of him as a child."

"Very inquisitive, —a child open to many idea and experiences-but also very stubborn once he had set his mind to things. Your presence here certainly attests to that fact."

"He came here often then?"

"He would frequently accompany both his grandfather and father. But come, there are other times and places to speak of the past. Right now you have a ceremony to prepare for," she touched the screen with several swift motions, "Perhaps here you will find something that will answer your questions."

Jey Du Hey quickly found her a series of vids of past Ramahr'alia'fa'am, setting the links on the screen to those that would be of most interest on the screen before the Ajarti took her leave.

Left alone now, Amanda scanned the star dates trying to determine how she should view them- First to last? Last to first? Random? She closed her eyes and touched her finger to the screen.

_Tribarian Negotiations: Nar Ramahr'alia'fa'am_

From Federation history, she knew this was a famous treaty ending a conflict that had threatened to split the Federation into several factions before it was resolved. The "Nar" meant it had been one of major importance. The clip consisted of only a few brief moments, obviously taken before the actual ceremony began.

The recording from forty-odd years prior appeared on her screen. The ambassador, formally dressed in ceremonial robes of rust and wine appeared first, followed by a striking woman nearly his height just to his right, clad in shades of deep purple. To the ambassador's left, a shorter figure in the same rust and wine appeared just slightly out of frame. The smaller figure then moved partially into focus, evidently one of the balances, the Stch'ka, that of the highest-ranking male member of the party behind the ambassador. The lighting was bad, a reflection someone in the distance was affecting the exposure. It was not so much that they looked alike but more in the way they held themselves like one was a younger echo of the other. All three figures regally secure in their place in the ceremony, as if no one could deny them their heritage. She looked for a long hard moment as the final figure finally came into view-

"Sarek?" she whispered, as if she expected a response. She looked for an identifier link:

_Offering of Service: Ambassador Skonn, primary assistance Tch'ka T'cha'ala'at T'Pazia, and Stch'ka Xcha'ala'at Sarek_

The footage was far to short but more than enough to make her hungry for more. Quickly calculating, Sarek must have been no more than 16. As she had looked intently at the vid, she wondered if she would ever meet the rest of his family, or if the estrangement she feared she had caused would be a permanent one.

Excited now, Amanda moved back to an older stardate. This one seemed to be a full recording. In the lead was an older Vulcan, similar in looks and bearing to Skonn, obviously another family member, but somewhat older. And the balances, the ranking female and the male were definitely very different people,

_Offering of Service: Ambassador Solkar, assistance by Tch'ka T'cha'ala'at T'Pau and Stch'ka __Xcha'ala'at__ Sulet_

Disappointed that she had moved too far into the past and missed Sarek's entry into the ceremonies, she watched the ritual, playing her part over in her mind, the offering of services, the acceptance of mediation, the sharing of resources. Near the end a movement in the background caught her eye, and she realized it was Jey Du Hey. Even in the shadows the Ajarti's light clothing was a sharp contrast to the dark shades of those surrounding her. Then Amanda saw him, the young Vulcan child standing next to the Jey Du Hey. This time there was no mistaking her Sarek- the set of his mouth, the tilt of his eyes, the unruly curl to his hair. He was there, a slight figure watching his future before him, under the tutelage of generations. She froze the screen and held it for a long time, wondering what had passed in the sixty years between this small boy and the Vulcan she had come to know and love.

Somewhere in the distance a chime sounded. Looking at the chronometer in the corner, she suddenly realized how late it was and long she had been involved. She knew better, knew that she should leave, but still she could not resist a last pull. This one was only a few years ago and one in which Sarek took the lead role, flanked on either side by veiled balances, minor members of the ambassadorial staff filling in for the lack of High House members. Not that it was an unusual arrangement—it was in fact more the rule than the exception as most Vulcan spouses had their own careers and duties, and it was more the norm to have the highest ranking members of the opposite sex within the embassy to take over what had once been the duty of spouse and heirs. It was in fact, one of the few adjustments that had been made to the rituals over time by necessity. The only difference being that both balances in this instance had their heads covered, indicating their lower rank.

She watched him go through the motions, pride swelling within her. What had she done to have so much as warranted a moment's notice from Sarek? What did he really see in her? There were times when she felt she was nothing more than an awkward schoolgirl, caught up in a fantasy. Amanda hoped she was ready for the task of being his wife, though she knew there were many who believed she never would or should be.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

By the time Amanda got in it was late, and the air of disapproval was palpable. One of the women from staff had been assigned to assist her, and she'd been rushed off to the dressing area as soon as she had stepped into the consulate.

First, the long gray slip, then the dress, layers of sheer periwinkle-colored chiffon, cut on the bias to fall like petals of a flower. Over top a tabard of velvet in a deeper shade, traced with silver embroidery, delicate glyphs intertwined with leaves. Around her neck was placed a single stone, opalescent and set with another glyph. The last step was a veil, of the same fabric as the dress that covered her head and then draped across her shoulders. As she made her way to the staging area, she had to be careful not to trip over the hem. It seemed that the gown had been made assuming that she was much taller woman.

Once there, she was amazed at the level of organization, bodies moving rapidly, weaving in and out, back and forth with preparations. Amanda managed to peer into the reception hall, reviewing the paces in her mind's eye, now enhanced by seeing the actual ceremonies on the vids.

Along the sides of hall, pillars of highly polished lapis, malachite, and jasper alternated with standing fretwork lanterns, the flickering light playing shadows on their glistening surfaces, She took note of the consulate walls, which had now been covered, their normal murals of desert vistas lay in part hidden by jewel toned tapestries depicting Surak negotiating peace among the tribes. Though not everyone would understand the significance of the wall hangings, it had been impressed upon her the meaning and background of each little adjustment in the room's décor. This was to be no mere start to negotiations, but a formal offering of services to assist in bringing peace among opposing factions.

Suddenly, the room quieted as the Dor P'Dar entered, making a point first to inspect the carefully set ceremonial trays by the entry, barking orders at several of the aides, sending them scurrying. Finally, she set her eyes upon Amanda.

"This is incorrect," The Dor changed to sharply toned English, no doubt for Amanda's benefit.

"Dor P'Dar?"

She took the veil, freeing it of its fastenings and covered Amanda's face.

"Dor? I do not believe the Xcha'ala'at -" the woman who had helped her dress came forward in protest.

"This female has no rank or standing but that which reflects her consort. Her face should be covered to indicate this."

As the spindly Dor gave her a cold once over from head to foot, Amanda could almost feel a viable disapproval.

"Nothing further is needed."

As the Dor attention moved to another unfortunate aide, one of the younger women moved to hand Amanda the ornate carrying tray that was hers to hold, and softly whispered, "Cha'ala, it is nothing toward you. The Dor is very traditional and insists that everything is exact and to the Xcha'ala'at's specifications."

As if on cue, a silence fell upon the room, all parties seeming to snap to attention. The ambassador had entered and the show was about to begin, whether the ambassador's wife was ready for it or not.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"All is as it should be, Xcha'ala'at. We come to serve," the Dor briefly bowed her head to Sarek in acknowledgement.

He regally strode through the staging area, inspecting each passing figure with a sharp eye, making sure that the smallest of items was in place and all were ready to proceed. Then his eyes softened as he pulled close to his wife.

Amanda stood in front of him, facing away, a fragile figure wrapped in grays and blues, tight with nervous worry. Instinctively as he passed, he let his hand rest on the back of her neck for a brief moment and whispered, "You will be fine."

Through the light cast of the veil, his wife turned and smiled up at him. He touched her hand as it held the ceremonial tray, feeling its slight trembling. His mind reached out, impressing upon her his faith in her ability, and the trembling faded. Sarek held her gaze for a few moments, thinking how they were echoed in the shades of the fabric that encased her slender frame. Suddenly, he took the delicate edges of the gauze between his fingers, and he lifted the veil, smoothing it back away from her face. She might have imagined it, but it seemed a small smile, meant only for her, played at the corners of his generous mouth. He asked so much if his wife, and she gave unquestioning.

Turning, the Vulcan Ambassador took a few more steps, stopped, standing alone before the massive doors, his party in place behind him. Squaring his shoulders, face set in impassive lines, he nodded to the attendants on either side, and the doors swung open wide to the gathering scene within the reception hall.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

It all seemed anti-climatic in the end, at least for her. Amanda had done her job, made her appearance and now all she had to do was to sit back and twiddle her thumbs while negotiations went on. So why was she waking every morning from dreams of going through the steps of the Ramahr'alia'fa'am over and over? Or was she just assuming it was the Ramahr'alia'fa'am?

Trying to pick up the pieces of her dreams, she vainly attempted to make sense of them. As she turned the remnants over and over it seemed more and more that it had to be some other ceremony, strange and unknown, something filled with faces that were lifted from the vids, enacting an event that seemed to be secreted away from her. As best as she could remember, she seemed to be the one holding negotiations, between the Vulcans that approved of her and those that did not, with Sarek the prize. She tried to shake it from her mind as she paced the empty apartment. Why did the outcome of the dream seem to hold a deeply routed fear? A fear of what she didn't know, couldn't identify, and was unable to understand. Something seemed to be awakening within her that she instinctively knew only Sarek could help explain.

Listlessly, she moved through the apartment, letting her hands brush over the various pieces of furniture and bric-a-brac as she passed, trying to ascertain what the generations of her husband's family might have impressed on their surroundings. What would they have thought of her, this succession of diplomats and statespeople, who had been trained to deal with other more emotional species as part of their life path? Were she and Sarek the inevitable outcome of generations that bent to that training? She found she had so much to ask him- everyday more and more unanswered questions.

Amanda rested her hand on a stonework table, realizing how it seemed out of place- certainly not a piece shipped from Vulcan. If nothing else the work seemed to remind her of the pieces that she had seen in one of the public gardens. She made out the patterns on its surface that she had missed before. Along the edge of the circular table were inserts of leaves that were like jade, and within the center were traces of line work, pale and opalescent. She drew one finger along the lines, imagining what their significance might be, rapping her finger on the winding edge. Suddenly without warning, the stone lit up from within, as if responding to her touch. A soft voice seemed to whisper a single sound into the air, like a rush of wind-

"Yoost."

Before her the air filled a series of images, sounds, colors, racing around her head in a widening circle. And with each object or sensation that slowed and presented itself to her, a small gem-like light appeared on the table's surface, until an entire section of the table was filled with glowing blue light. The light held for a few moments before finally fading to an accompanying end "Yoost".

Amanda stared at it for a long time, wondering what had just happened. The table was dead again. She tried her best to start it back up, waving her hand over it, talking to it, trying to coax it back to life, but to no avail. It seemed to have reverted back to an inert state. Finally, in desperation she crawled underneath, looking for a switch or a button- some sort of mechanism that would explain---

A sudden chime at the door startled her and she jumped, hitting her head on the table's edge. She felt as if had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Rubbing her head, she pulled herself up off the floor. Then straightening her tunic in an attempt to look presentable, she made her way to the large double doors, opening a single one wide to the hall beyond.

Amanda glanced first in one direction then the other to see if anyone was there, but there seemed to be no sign of visitors. Shrugging, she turned back into the apartment almost colliding with a Bedelle, standing just within the door, softly humming away, having slipped in undetected.

"Oh!" Amanda jumped back, startled.

"Ob, Ob. So sorry! Forget that you do not have Vulcan hearing, do you?" the Bedelle made a brief bow and Amanda nodded in return, "Name Esahrub. Please to meet the mate of a Most Honored One, friend to Bedelle and Ajarti."

"Esahrub - like the one in the story?"

The blaze that was a secondary sexual trait rose from the Bedelle's chin to forehead, indicating that this was a female. Dressed in a smart peridot colored jacket, her turquoise eyes glittered against deep mahogany fur. She seemed a fitting namesake to a legend.

"That was many, many Esahrubs ago. We are the current Esahrub and my Ajarti, Jey Du Hey, has sent a gift to congratulate you for a job well done at the Ramahr'alia'fa'am. "

Amanda marveled at the way the word rattled off the Bedelle's tongue, while she still struggled with it, "I wish I had as much faith in my abilities. I-"

"No, No, our sisters and brothers at the consulate advised that you did an admirable job. They have seen many Ramahr'alia'fa'am, including ones conducted by your Honored Mate and this they said was best. Your Honored One and his Chosen One shone like no other."

"Shone?"

"The Ajarti see what others cannot. We trust in their sight. Having a third eye is most useful, as are third and fourth arms," the Bedelle waved all four of her arms, like a Hindu god in dance.

"I don't think the Dor-"

"Pay no attention to the Dor, she is dour and jealous that the place that she would have once held in ceremony has now been rightfully filled. We are sure that it was her doing at the Sour One's request that the residence manager made the housing error," the small figure busied herself about the room, as if she were unable to stay in any one place at one time, or to keep all four arms in continual use.

"The Sour One?" Amanda found herself following Esahrub as she wove about the room, on a continual inspection.

"Many years ago, when your Honored Mate was but a child, the Aian'a'an brought the Sour One here. The Bedelle did not like her as she did not treat us well. Like the Dor she believed herself superior. And the Bedelle remember and pass on all. As the Ajarti view the future, the Bedelle read the past. There is no superior, only different, as your Honored Mate has always known, since we first met him, when he was even smaller that the Bedelle. He is a good one and the Ajarti have faith in him."

"You seem to know an awful lot of what's going on."

"We know more and see more than some would give us credit for. And those who do not give us credit are most likely to give away the greatest."

Amanda bit her lip in thought for a moment, then hopefully asked, "Maybe you can tell me how this table works?"

"Yoost is an Ajarti tool. Bedelle have no use for this. Ajarti will tell you it is for you to discover," the small being rapped on the table lightly and sent the images spinning once again, before quickly stepping back, " It is a game for those with higher aspirations than the Bedelle have."

Amanda moved closer to the table, momentarily entranced once more by the images before her. A slight tug on her tunic brought her back to the present.

"We have many errands to do for the Ajarti this day, so I must take my leave."

"Well, I am very pleased to have met you, Esahrub. And thank Jey Du Hey for her help at the library. "

"Indeed, indeed, 'All to promote peace and understanding' as the Ajarti would say," The Bedelle pulled a small item out of her pocket, "I will leave this with you along with a message from Jey Du Hey. That should you be in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask."

Esahrub handed over to her a small box, the color of a midnight sky, scattered with crystal stars. Fascinated, she turned the box over in her hands, until she found a small latch and it sprung open. She let go a little gasp of delight at its contents and looked up to thank the Bedelle, but the little being had already gone to other errands, and the doorway was empty.

Closing the massive door, Amanda leaned against it as she explored the contents of the box. Nestled inside of folds of velvety fabric was a delicate shell, similar to a scallop, blue with streaks of white and pale pink, like the Ajarti sunset. She let her finger slide along the slight grooves that decorated the top of the shell, only to have it sprig open. Inside the shell was a treasure, a tiny object made of the same material as the statue of An Su In on the beach, but with colors more active and vibrant as if its "life" were new and freshly carved.

Suddenly, she knew what her plan would be for the day- she would visit the statue and compare the works in the sunlight.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Far too much unnecessary time had gone by with both parties at each other's throats. Had Sarek been called in when the opposing parties had first requested his assistance, it might not have been so. He could have diverted arguments as they rose and would have avoided their escalation. Now he was left to deal with demands that seemed set in stone. Members of the Council had kept him from his work with their narrow minded prejudices and a conflict had been allowed to deepen due to their actions, taking that much longer to resolve.

Tonight, the Ajarti had insisted on an evening concert in recognition of the negotiations. This was in a way a ceremony of the Ajarti, and he come to accept it, even if he did not always participate. It was illogical to waste time in more trivial pursuits, when that same time might be better spent working on resolutions. But for the Ajarti it was tradition, something that every Vulcan understood the need for, no matter how lacking the valid rational.

The afternoon had ended in an impasse, followed by a trade of insults, and it seemed only logical to break before matters disintegrated even further. For the first time in three days, Sarek was back at the apartment before nightfall, with no wife to be found. He moved toward the balcony overlooking the sea. Reaching out with his mind he cast a net for her with tentative tendrils of thought. His eyes were drawn to a small figure- a dot on the beach in the distance. It stood as if in response to his unspoken call, brushing herself off. Tentatively, she started back toward the residence, slowly at first, then faster as she traced the thought back to him, now certain of its source and her destination. She stopped for a moment a brief distance from the residence. Upon seeing him clearly, she removed the wide brimmed hat she wore and waving it wildly, a smile lighting up her face before she broke into a run.

It was not dignified and certainly if anyone saw her they would feel the need to comment on the Cha'ala's lack of demeanor. But it lifted his heart to see her youthful exhuberance and energy return. To see the Amanda he had met and married and not the all too reserved one that had held precedence over the last months.

Within a few brief moments, he heard the door open, and then winced as it closed a bit too forcefully. Then she was there beside him on the balcony, flushed and breathless, but happy. And he, he was happy as well even if he could little show it.

"You're early! Have you been back long?"

Sarek stepped back for a moment, partially raising the shields he had lowered to call her home. Her energy could be overwhelming at times.

"No…" he spoke tentatively, not sure of where the question was leading.

She took him by the hands and pulled him inside. Once there she threw her arms around his neck, pulling his head to hers, "I was forgetting what my husband looked like in the daylight."

He pulled back to look at her, brows raised. She leaned into him, tugging on his neck. With little effort, he lifted her into his arms and up off the floor as she kicked her sandals away, laughing.

"It's far too easy for you to sweep a girl off her feet!"

There were several directions that this could go if they did not have an event that required their presence. He held her close for a few moments, before setting her back down, briefly regretting what would need to be put off until the evening's end.

"Later tonight, I will be at your disposal, my wife, but for now time is limited and I would rather not have restrictions placed upon our time together."

Amanda sighed wistfully, "I'm probably all nasty and sweaty from the beach anyway."

"Indeed."

His wife swatted him playfully, "One of us just happens to have a metabolism that needs to regulate against this heat."

"Sarek," she turned to ask him something more. He waited patiently for her to continue, watching her as she bit the corner of her lip, deep in thought.

"I was going to ask you something, but I've forgotten now," she turned and made her way into the bedroom, leaving him wondering what could have been so important that she had needed to discuss it with him, and yet she would allow herself to forgot. It was all in the mass of contradictions he called wife…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Amanda came back she was dressed in only a light gauze robe, hair still damp, cascading down her back in dark waves. A trace of fragrance came from her favorite soap. She avoided the heavy fragrances many Terran women seemed to favor, a fact he was grateful for.

Dinner had arrived and it was laid out on the low table in the dining area, a variety of dishes from a nearby dining establishment he had long favored. He watched as she gracefully dropped down to one of the floor cushions opposite him.

"You've been cooking," she laughed

Sarek lowered his brows, setting his mouth in a firm line at an attempt to portray disapproval at her jest.

"You must have labored over this for minutes, just for me!"

He looked at her again as he lifted the temperature adjusted covers off the courses as she settled herself across the floor from him.

"Smile."

"I do not-"

"I'll make you," She stretched her leg under the length of the table letting her foot find its destination, just the right spot--

It took all Sarek's reserves not to jump at the intrusion,

"It may be a long evening as we will be expected to socialize afterward and if my wife does not eat she will certainly regret it. And I will be subjected to the sound of her stomach rumbling all evening."

He reached down and tugged at her leg with what to him was a gentle force, but which sent Amanda sprawling onto her back. It was easy to forgot how delicate she really was with all of the hard fought determination she exuded

"My wife, I did not intend…" He feared he had harmed her until she let out a laugh.

"I know, I know, if I don't eat my dinner I will never grow big and strong, at least that's what my grandmother told me. So I ate and see what it's gotten me- five foot four and a husband who can floor me with his little finger!" Sitting up, her foot beat a partial retreat, until it rested contentedly on his calf. She took in a mouthful of the meal set before her, "This is quite good."

It amazed him her ability to jump from one subject to the next, and yet when she really found something that absorbed her nothing could tear her away. Though they shared the latter, the former was beyond his comprehension at times.

"I had a visitor today, Jey Du Hey sent a Bedelle, Esahrub the 1001st I imagine. She stopped by to relay congratulations on the Ramahr'alia'fa'am."

"I was sure that you would be able to comport yourself honorably and you did so my wife."

"Well, I wasn't sure and I think not everyone was pleased. I'm sure old Dor-"

He looked at her long and hard.

"It's the truth, don't deny it. I'm sure she wanted me to trip over the gown and spill the contents of the tray I was carrying all over the Nori and Chimerean Ambassadors!"

"Dor P'Dar has spent many long years in service to Vulcan and the pursuit of peace. I will not have her ridiculed." he softened his tone, "It is hard for some to accept change, my wife. They need time. "

She nodded, "I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect, and it's just she looks at me as if I were a piece of dirt that soiled her best robe. Anyway, Jey Du Hey sent me a gift, look!"

She ran into the living area and came back with the small box and opened it to share, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

She settled in next to him, the length of her body butting his, guiding the small object into his hands, letting his fingers brush the along the grooves of the delicate stone shell, opening it to reveal the figure it cradled.

"It is a Tahy, 'The birth of a wish'. The Ajarti look upon it as a good luck token and to be gifted one portends the ability to make your desire come true, no matter how unattainable it might be, " Sarek gently lifted the shell out of the box, resting it in the palm of his hand.

"Do you believe in it?" Amanda looked up at him eyes light and liquid, their color reflecting the blue that traced through the veins of the stone shell.

He thought about it before answering, remembering the one that had been given to him a decade ago. It was not possible, but it had seemed that his desires had been answered in the form of the young Terran woman sitting so close to him. He breathed in her scent- the smell of the sun and the sand along with that fragrance uniquely hers. Sarek had despaired of ever finding someone that would be an acceptable life mate. What he had been gifted with was far beyond any imagining. But none of this he would admit to.

"We look upon it as a fairly foolish exercise. Wishing on a charm indicates an inability to take action, to look toward outside forces to achieve one's goals or desires."

"But do you believe in it?"

His wife looked down at the tiny infant curled sleeping within the curve of the shell and then over to him. He could see in her eyes the need to not want to admit to what she imagined it represented. Sarek knew all too well the bittersweet wish it might hold for her. There was no need to give it voice- it hung in the air between them for a long measure.

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the long delay in getting this posting as well as for the replies I still owe some of you! My old fridge died, the new one I bought to replace it had a loose fan, and a week in the summer without a functioning fridge, well it pulled me right out of the writing mood. Took me a bit to get the old voices in the head back, and it didn't help that this is a long chapter. (And I would not be surprised if those of you that are typo hunters find something wrong-- my eyes are bleary looking at it and my mind wants to get on the the next chapter!)

Thanks for your patience and your support,

Mary


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